At the same time, there is renewed beauty in the everyday. Two little boys, around 3-years old, hold hands while walking down the street. A group of men crowd around outside Cafe Coffee Day in Defense Colony, looking into the television inside to watch the India vs. Ireland cricket match, which the workers inside have positioned to face the window.
On my way to my coffee shop "office" this morning, I pass a small funeral parade, body clearly displayed on top of a bamboo cot being held up by a few men. A family of beggars cleans up on the side of the road, little baby crawling around on the sidewalk between being swooped up by his mother as he's about to cross the street. India is the ultimate expression of Langston Hughes' sense of being too "crowded" for fear. Death intersperses with life; there is humanity all around us, in all its dirtiness, beauty, hope, and despair.
There's something about the scene -- or more precisely, the feelings swirling within me about it, that remind me of a Sufi prayer I read during Giselle's visit to Delhi and our walking tour around Nizammuddin Basti:
"Open our hearts, that we may hear Thy Voice,
which constantly cometh from within."
God, the universe, within all of us. It's not about external salvation, but rather realizing the light that already shines within each of us. A beautiful thought on my 32nd birthday!
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