A glass rather....
Here I am - 6:30 AM, the horizon is just getting to be red. I was out for a walk a while earlier.
Life stirs in Ahmedabad, sleepy people getting up, the odd person on a scooter or motorcycle whizzes by, the rickshaw drivers on their morning shifts. I see a milkman carting two large drums of milk to the nearby tea stall. I give out a smile and head for the warmth of the little light bulb that glows orange. Underneath the glow is a buzz of activity - the people just back from prayers, or going to work early, or just woken up, wanting to be refreshed. Its November and still not cold, what odd weather is this?
I ask the guy to get me a half a cup of masala chai (also known as a cutting), in a glass, not a cup (a quirk many have here). Comes back steaming hot, and I sip some sweet strong tea and look around at the activity. One aged 'uncle' comes up, smiles, and borrows someone's newspaper and goes through the headlines with a thoughtful expression. In a few minutes his lifelong friend joins him and they both talk about the day's work. I have finished my tea by now, and feel like another, so I ask for another, stand up and go outside the glow of the bulb where dawn is breaking out. The air seems fresh and good, a far cry from the pollution that will be unleashed a in a couple of hours from now. I smell of Gucci Pour Homme and it wafts faintly in the cool breeze. Winter will be coming very soon.
I pay the chai-wallah, and head back to my place, walking slowly, taking in the morning sights and smells. Every corner, a tea stall, some places already preparing something or the other for breakfast. Busy housewives out cleaning their utensils and clothes in a 'mori' (a square outside the house, generally where there's a tap for water). The horizon grows redder and the day will soon be upon us. Ah what a wonderful morning this is
Here I am - 6:30 AM, the horizon is just getting to be red. I was out for a walk a while earlier.
Life stirs in Ahmedabad, sleepy people getting up, the odd person on a scooter or motorcycle whizzes by, the rickshaw drivers on their morning shifts. I see a milkman carting two large drums of milk to the nearby tea stall. I give out a smile and head for the warmth of the little light bulb that glows orange. Underneath the glow is a buzz of activity - the people just back from prayers, or going to work early, or just woken up, wanting to be refreshed. Its November and still not cold, what odd weather is this?
I ask the guy to get me a half a cup of masala chai (also known as a cutting), in a glass, not a cup (a quirk many have here). Comes back steaming hot, and I sip some sweet strong tea and look around at the activity. One aged 'uncle' comes up, smiles, and borrows someone's newspaper and goes through the headlines with a thoughtful expression. In a few minutes his lifelong friend joins him and they both talk about the day's work. I have finished my tea by now, and feel like another, so I ask for another, stand up and go outside the glow of the bulb where dawn is breaking out. The air seems fresh and good, a far cry from the pollution that will be unleashed a in a couple of hours from now. I smell of Gucci Pour Homme and it wafts faintly in the cool breeze. Winter will be coming very soon.
I pay the chai-wallah, and head back to my place, walking slowly, taking in the morning sights and smells. Every corner, a tea stall, some places already preparing something or the other for breakfast. Busy housewives out cleaning their utensils and clothes in a 'mori' (a square outside the house, generally where there's a tap for water). The horizon grows redder and the day will soon be upon us. Ah what a wonderful morning this is
. The shop all round is filled with many such bottles, most are stock of the same fragrances in each shelf, the variants and the expensive perfumes are right there in the showcase.
