City Palanquin

Most mornings as I walk to Sishu Bhavan, I pass a hand cart puller. On his hand cart sits a very old lady. The very old lady seems disinterested in her journey, as if she has made it many times before; perhaps for many years before. Sometimes, the hand cart is filled with sacks of something. But even then, the very old lady will sit perched on top; like a queen being pulled through her kingdom. The hand cart puller seems not to notice her; as her weight amounts to little more than one of his many sacks. Despite the honking horns, smoking exhausts, rushing and pushing, the very old lady remains seeminly oblivious to her journey; as if she is already in a distant place far far away.

Every day our lives pass briefly; everyday I day dream about her life. Meaningless thoughts far removed from her reality, as she travels barefoot on top of a hand pulled cart and I stop to take a photograph.