Walking along, one sees Kangi, a women’s traditional art form. Women create this transient designs on their doorsteps. The process is a meditation,and a means to release worry and guilt a person may hold inside.
I past a man in front of a large bag of trash, picking out the papers for recycling. He was old, dirt smeared, and dressed in rags, clearly delit in caste. He read each paper carefully before putting it aside. I asked if I could take his picture but he was not happy with the idea. So I took no pictures. I was struck he could read, and was taking the time to read as he did his job of recycling.
India is a mix of experiences. I find that I am feeling a lot of tension being here. 
India is not necessarily a comfortable place, yet there is so much to it. I wonder about the lifestyle I am used to, how plush it is. Walking the streets of developing countries has the ability to make one feel very guilty for having anything.
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