Thursday, 14 September 2017

Exterior/Day/Footpath on a busy Road in Mumbai

Every evening on my way back home from work, i get pissed with the bikers using the footpath and honking for pedestrians to make way for them. Every evening, at the end of the footpath, i see the same old woman holding the hand of a person, walking slowly in the opposite direction. Yesterday, i saw that she was alone. It is only when she held her hand in front of me, beckoning me to hold it, that i realized that she was being walked by different people every day, strangers to her, just like me. 

I thought of my mother. I felt really sad.

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