Outside my window seat.

Outside my car window rushes by a world that I’m no stranger to, yet one that never fails to add something new. Every time.

My car rages ahead like a bull in a hurry. Beautiful towns and their people seem to race backward in tandem with my car’s acceleration.

There’s so much to see, feel and embrace. Nothing to converse about. Conversations kill the moment. Silence is sometimes the best friend.

A town wakes up to the morning sun.
The boatman pulls out his rowing boat and heads out of
the narrow canal. 
Fields glimmer as the cold breeze sweeps over the crop. 
Somewhere, mynahs call a conference.
A lazy doggy stands soaking up the rays of the sun. 
A blue train rattles down the track a little far away.
A hen and her little chicks are out for breakfast. 
A bull finishes up his meal before heading out to the vegetable market with his cart and owner.
I race alongside the blue train.  
Four village belles cross the railway track, aluminum pots of water steady on their heads, the sun gleaming behind them.
What a view!
Familiar smells and unfamiliar turns heave at the doors of your senses. 
Sign boards whiz by.
Highway tea stalls get life.
The morning newspapers wrestle with their handlers. 
I get my cuppa of hot steaming tea – double strong. Mmmm.
My day couldn’t open any better. 


Back in the car, back at the wheel, it’s time to look out for a fuel station. And then start all over again; to find something else.