Travel Story-The Monk

There is something about those faces which tells you a story. I sat for a cup of tea besides a sadhu and I knew he wanted a cup of tea too so I ordered 2 . The shopkeeper was asking for 16 bucks but he insisted on paying 10 which he always did. I always go to Vrindavan for peace , to see people like these who survive on bare minimum , for whom every meal is joy and who are free to an extent. It is here that you pass multitudes of faces, the millions of devotees at temple . Happy content faces, searching faces , desperate faces and peaceful faces all come together to bow before the almighty. India is a country of crowds which was apparent from the thousands of people on my frame while clicking pics at Taj Mahal and so is the varied thoughts and life they live. It is in journey’s like this that you understand them , you feel them and still feel that the enormity is beyond your comprehension. Incidentally it was a Dusshera day and there were coloured faces in Agra , people going for the visarjan of Durga idols. Faces colored to hide something , trying to find joy , trying to live something of their mundane lives , to celebrate something out of nothing.