DAILY MARKET.

Legs are trained,to hault at Calls, ‘Bees Rupya Paao,’ and tongue,to haggle over each price you talk of, ‘Das me Dijiye’. Days trained these shoulders to brush past, ‘Thoda hatiye,’ and eyes to spot the fresh of all, ‘Taaza nahi hai?’ It’s the sound that holds the story, never letting you hear what sits behind.

On a Bicycle to KANHARI.

What Kanhari am I talking about? A hill in my town Hazaribagh(India) in whose vicinity I grew up. These pictures take the lead in talking to you, while I muse lightly,sitting on the edge.  I have no plan to tell you how inclined you will be towards Nature if you grow up in its Green,…