After writing about my trip to a local Indian Market last week, it occured to me that I’ve been to an authentic Indian Market. I studied yoga in Bangalore, India for three months while I completed my teacher training. Most of my time was spent with my teacher, but Sundays were free. What I wish I could convey are the smells that go along with these photos. Some fragrances were so sweet they lifted me up off the ground. Others so pungent they knocked the sandles off my bare feet. The colors are, of course, so vibrant, but the faces…their beauty haunts me years later.
How many millions of flowers are in this one room?
Each day hindus buy garlands of flowers to decorate the idols of their dieties.
This is beautiful, and then...
you see this. Beautiful? Sad? Both?
This is India. When I first saw this baby she was sleeping. I only saw her leg and I thought she was a rag doll. Her mama woke her and insisted I take this picture. I wish I could give her a copy.
Spices everywhere.
Fruit
Fresh vegetables
The street market felt overwhelming and confusing. My guard went up.
And then I met her and her parents who proudly propped her up for a picture for an American woman they did not know.
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