we were taken to a corrugated box factory yesterday, as part of a course i'm doing. the bus meandered through the garbage and slums of goregaon east industrial galas to stop before what looked like an overflowing gutter. we had to dodge through dirty water and waste paper to make our way to what looked like one machine in a hut. that lead to another little room, and yet another machine, towards yet another room and yet another machine - there were rooms and machines to cut, stick, fabricate, crease and print boxes.
the workers were listening to religious music, oblivious to all but the task at hand. the young man running this operation was guiding them with such dedication and devotion. to quality and to the job at hand. work is worship. it was humbling to say the least.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
rain
blasts again
mumbai weeps in pain
in the pouring rain
eight year old gears for school
tests today
spells *julry* wrong again
big pain
small pain
the rain pours down again
and again and again
mumbai weeps in pain
in the pouring rain
eight year old gears for school
tests today
spells *julry* wrong again
big pain
small pain
the rain pours down again
and again and again
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
sari tale
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Real Beauty
"Beautiful" he said to his shy, young bride in the morning, when she was fresh out of the bath drying her wet, long, jet black hair with a towel.
"Yuck" he said in the evening, when he found a strand of the self-same hair in his dal.
"Hmmmm" he had replied, not taking his eyes off his laptop, ten years later, when she asked if she looked "OK" to attend the party.
"Beatiful" said their seven year old, emphatically. "Mama looks beautiful".
"Beautiful" she had said when the sun rose over the hills on their holiday in the mountains.
"Can't bear this sun" she said suffering the mid-morning heat on their trek, reapplying her sunscreen.
Beauty...depends so much on the right time, right context and right mind.
"Yuck" he said in the evening, when he found a strand of the self-same hair in his dal.
"Hmmmm" he had replied, not taking his eyes off his laptop, ten years later, when she asked if she looked "OK" to attend the party.
"Beatiful" said their seven year old, emphatically. "Mama looks beautiful".
"Beautiful" she had said when the sun rose over the hills on their holiday in the mountains.
"Can't bear this sun" she said suffering the mid-morning heat on their trek, reapplying her sunscreen.
Beauty...depends so much on the right time, right context and right mind.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
sugarcane juice
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
the sari
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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