Alone, gazing at the endless street, he stood at the fork besides a pole. With a light-grey English cap over his head, he slanted his face at a peculiar angle. The market cries or the tourist rush didn’t bother this old man. His aged body bowed to the gravity but the walking stick kept it firm. Perhaps it wasn’t the wooden stick, but the resolve to keep going on.
The shining thick white beard attracted the passer by. I was at the Village Café on the roof top when I noticed his presence far down the street at the intersection. As I ran closer to the verandah of the cafe to frame a picture on my lens, he raced on the street towards the Nowrojee General Merchants shop. The fraction of a second was enough for him to get going towards his destination.
He gave me a glance, perhaps for the frame which i managed to fix, and as I clicked... he walked away.
He gave me a glance, perhaps for the frame which i managed to fix, and as I clicked... he walked away.
2 comments:
thought mcleodganj was marvellous for such unique people sightings :)
I'm in McLeod at the moment. I'm going to be reading a book to Amram today. His condition has completely deteriorated. He now has a fulltime caregiver and shuffles rather than walks. Also his funds have completely dried up and he relies on donations to survive. It's very sad......my grandfather died of Parkinsons at the same age.
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