There is a lovely village about four hours north of the city of Bangalore. Its name, Pavagada. It lies among pink granite hilltops and arid red plains speckled with desert shrub of an obstinate green. It's here that I come to do my community field work (although most of my project requires me to be in the city at the eye clinic). It's also here that I've spent some of my most peaceful and eye-opening days in this country. The village lies at the foot of a magnificent outcropping and into this outcropping is sown the remnants of a fort and a history centuries old. Ever since I got to this sleepy town five months ago (god, it's been five months!), I wanted to climb to the top. Today, FINALLY, I did...
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The weight of wait.
Time expands and silence slips in like a gloved hand. Waiting. Awaiting. For something singular to happen.
This is the bro and I out in Lanka, waiting past midnight for a bus that would only arrive two hours later. I was tired; I thought it would be painful, but such hours bring beautiful moments and inspiration. There was an eerie light that quiet night in the hill country, and a silent comraderie that binds lonely stragglers when the world is asleep and the dogs are the lords of the manor. The men first watched me silently--wondering what in hell I'm doing. Then... they got used to my madness; and I got all of this.
If you look carefully and pay attention, you'll see the fairy. I caught her unaware, her wings clipped, her smile all schoolgirl charm. There's magic when you least expect it. So keep your eyes peeled, my friends.
(The photos are a bit miniscule here... click here if you want to see them real size: http://picasaweb.google.co.in/alefia/WaitingFebruary2010#slideshow/5434470300971392130)
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