Are they waiting for him to wake up and pedal them home for breakfast? Are they resting, in a pause between one piece of mischief and the next? Is their mother just off-camera, buying atta or negotiating the price of onions?
So much of life in India is public and active. There are endless scenes like this one – people sleeping, arguing, bathing, cooking, building, or, like these boys, dreaming and contemplating – to me, mostly just a blur on the road as the car hurtles past; to them, the all and all with me mostly just as distant a flash of someone else’s life passing by on the periphery of their vision.
What a treat it is when the car slows down enough to allow a fleeting moment to become a memory: a little glimpse of life which is noted, remarked upon and stored for a possible future revelation.
wonderfully said.. have often felt the same..the richness..the beauty..the oneness of it all
Beautifully Expressed..
Have you ever read Ruth Prawer Jhabvala ?
Thanks, Kavita. I know in your work this must happen all the time!
Ajay, yes, I have read Ruth Prawer Jhabvala. I love her work. Which one are you thinking of?
Almost all her books, beautifully captures the vignette and enchanting irony of Indian life..
I love her introduction (once published in a Delhi based newspaper as a long essay) to An Experience of India.