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I'm an Explorer, Engineer, Writer, Public Speaker, and Entrepreneur. I write about exploration, travel, and science. 

Any views expressed on this site are my own.  

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Sunday
Jul292012

Howl at the Moon

The other day I was reading on the terrace, watching light turn to dusk over Bangalore... Pigeons want the awning above the window a floor below but my presence deters them. Good. Back off, pigeon. There's a white one with black spots, bigger than the others. I name him Norm, neighborhood barfly. Hawks circle lazily high above the trees. Three cats watch the street from a nearby ledge. Ants crawl along the corner of the wall and the floor. I try to follow their path along a water pipe but can't find the end. Probably our apartment. A spider fights a faint breeze from a thin web between leaves on a potted plant. Car horns beep repeatedly (as they do here), but more subdued than most days. Why? Sunday. Dogs howl in the distance- first just one, then a symphony of the neighborhood's canines join in. Muslim prayers signifying dusk sing from speakers across the city, not quite in tune, not quite unlike the howling calls of the dogs from various street corners with hidden meaning I can't hope to understand. It's Ramadan. Two boys in plaid shirts, maybe 10 years old, walking down the street, one with an arm around the other's shoulders. They're mimicking grown men, because that's how they walk, always in contact. A man in a white shirt walks a rusty blue bicycle with a stack of blankets or rugs or curtains or whatever- some kind of patterned fabric- strapped to the back reaching higher than he is tall. Red tinges the edges of the clouds, swirls with gray and blue and purple. Three-quarter moon glows, haloed, most likely by smog. Pink, yellow, blue, white, purple buildings. Terraces and rooftops and palm trees and clotheslines... this could almost be Miami if it smelled like the ocean instead of soot and you just never looked down to the street, broken, littered, grungy. A herd of goats is shepherded up the street, causing a Mercedes SUV turning the corner to yield, backing up the street, creating a deadlock on the two-lane main road. One of the many things I can say, "gee, never thought I'd see THAT before."

India isn't an easy place to live, but then again, that's not why we travel, is it?

Reader Comments (2)

Sometimes reading something twice or maybe three times lets it resonate like music. I've heard folks say this about reading Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn and/or Shakespeare's play(s). Now I think I understand what those folks meant. You captured something unique, at least to me it's unique. I think I will read it again :-)

October 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMrs.Fitz'

Sometimes reading something twice or maybe three times lets it resonate like music. I've heard folks say this about reading Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn and/or Shakespeare's play(s). Now I think I understand what those folks meant. You captured something unique, at least to me it's unique. I think I will read it again :-)

October 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMrs.Fitz'

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