At Kandolim, Goa.
iso 200, 18mm, f/3.5, 1/500sec.
My first solo trip. Let me share a little bit about it. I’m walking down the streets of Darjeeling, looking around and finding newness in everything. Though the place is new for me, I can totally relate to it’s streets and colorful houses. It resembles exactly to those line houses I drew as a child on walls of my room. House with the roof top and chimney, sun rising from middle of two mountains and river passing by. Ain’t that a beautiful scenario to wake up to everyday! (P.S. : Also having famous Darjeeling green Chai is like living my own childhood drawings.). Every brick here tells me a tale. They tell me how long they have been here on the streets of Darjeeling. It is like they have aged under the warm sun, cool breeze, soft snow and the chilled rain of the city. The more it ages the more it blooms. Compared to my city this city is peaceful. No race. No rush. Everywhere I see, there is gradient. Either up or down. There is no straight. At one such gradient I looked up an saw this beautiful brick house with an elegant woman standing at the window wearing their tradition gown. I saw her elegance and now I can’t stop looking at her. She gave me a smile while I could not help but notice her beautiful eyes and pink blush-y cheeks. A moment later she disappeared and even I left. For next couple of days the route with the brick house became my mandatory route the further exploration; I looked up daily to the window but could not find her. I know, she will come out and give that smile again.
At Darjeeling, West Bangal.
Half a dozen balloons I sold, was curious to know the coins I earned.
Got excited when I saw the hand full of coins, started to count the result of my strives.
Looked around at the crowd of proletariat, so stood aside at an end of pavement.
Was so much excited to buy a new shirt, But here they come to snatch the perk.