Mihir Bhatt

India

India – End to the missing glass of life

I remember the day when I stepped foot on Indian soil. The vibrant shades of the market – cauliflower, golden mangoes. I listen to the walls tell their stories of kings and queens wrapped in sandstone palaces. Hear the echoes of love reverberating from the inlaid marble in the Humanyuns tomb. Attune ears to piper’s soothing melody. Savor the spiciness of lentils, the ineffable sweetness of honey. Taste the zest of citrus, the crunch of peanuts, the creaminess of curd and butter. Feel the texture of silk and simple cotton, the strands of the dhoti and sari. Touch the intricate carvings on ancient fort and temple walls. Respect the vast diversity, which provided my acknowledgment of the importance of the missing glass of my life. Lifting the shades to clear the pane of contemplation. Stimulate my senses with the spirit of India.

However, I saw a young man stride past a sari-clad woman soaking clothes in a metal vessel. Barefoot children with hidden eyes smile. This opens into the verdant landscapes and earthy village life. The primitive ways prevail, but it requires looking beyond the dung to understand the form and function.