The Autorickshaw Ride Home
I enjoy the rides home from work, being able to reflect on what I have learned while the crazy New Delhi traffic is blasting around. All the beautiful colors people wear makes me smile. Usually the images I see consists of mothers and children holding hands, bicycle rickshaws and many many men, men holding hands, and sometimes a radical woman and man holding hands. Along the side of the highway people are laying around sleeping, on what seems to be the same spot every day, someone is taking a piss off the road. This has become normal to me now.
New Images which introducing me to the usage of bright colors on sad days.
Surprisingly today, I saw a line of men throwing flowers, orange flowers ahead of them. With the speed of the auto I soon saw what they were throwing those beautiful flowers at; it was a homemade casket made by bamboo holders was carrying an obvious dead body draped in bright dark pink and yellows. The men, 15-20 of them, young men perhaps in their 30s, were mourning the loss of that person wrapped in happy colored fabric on a sad sad day. My thoughts are with them. My thoughts are not only in India and those mourning the loss of a loved one, my thoughts are also with the refugees from Somalia who are trying to escape the drought and starvation. Every day 10 children under the age die from starvation in the refugee camp Kobe.
Pass the Peace.
I enjoy the rides home from work, being able to reflect on what I have learned while the crazy New Delhi traffic is blasting around. All the beautiful colors people wear makes me smile. Usually the images I see consists of mothers and children holding hands, bicycle rickshaws and many many men, men holding hands, and sometimes a radical woman and man holding hands. Along the side of the highway people are laying around sleeping, on what seems to be the same spot every day, someone is taking a piss off the road. This has become normal to me now.
New Images which introducing me to the usage of bright colors on sad days.
Surprisingly today, I saw a line of men throwing flowers, orange flowers ahead of them. With the speed of the auto I soon saw what they were throwing those beautiful flowers at; it was a homemade casket made by bamboo holders was carrying an obvious dead body draped in bright dark pink and yellows. The men, 15-20 of them, young men perhaps in their 30s, were mourning the loss of that person wrapped in happy colored fabric on a sad sad day. My thoughts are with them. My thoughts are not only in India and those mourning the loss of a loved one, my thoughts are also with the refugees from Somalia who are trying to escape the drought and starvation. Every day 10 children under the age die from starvation in the refugee camp Kobe.
Pass the Peace.
kathrine, you are learning a new way of living life..and doing a great job passing it to everyone
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