The yellow light coming out of the vase shaped lamp illuminated the numerous pieces of glasses dressed on it in a flowery arrangement. The colored light on the pale walls filled my heart with joy. The lamp hung on a chain from the ceiling in the center of a L shaped room. It was basically a piece of glass coated with white cement with broken bits of colored glasses on it.
It was bought from a historical cauldron called Chandni Chowk. This market has its own collection of old and decrepit buildings. Buildings so old and whose walls have so many creaks and cracks that you begin to wonder as to how they still hold up the teeming masses of life within them. A walk in one of its streets of this market is like a walk in a maze. You can lose yourself to the wares being sold here, to the constant rush of feet always in a hurry to move, to the unknown faces looking to strike a bargain. This is one of oldest markets in India.
The yellow light also takes me back to the much cherished ride on a rickshaw across the pink walls of the old city of Jaipur. The literature festival was just about to end and my friend could not stand another session. Much to our dismay we realized that not only that not only were all the monuments shut for the day but the markets also were not doing any business. Left to our own we sat on a rickshaw and traversed the paths of the old city. Seemingly endless pink walls join each other to become a constant companion accompanying you in whichever direction you head. The pleasant breeze that was blowing despite the cold January month was the only music that was required. The pace of life is calm here. You can see people perched on the terrace of their houses engaged in conversations oblivious of your gaze. The rickshaw wallah on discovering suddenly that we were two lost girls in the city took it uopn himself to ensure that we reached the place that we had decided to stop for dinner on time. It was almost two hours since we had been touring the city. More than the dots on the map that we had managed to draw a line across in this city, it was the feeling of feeling the pulse of the city that has stayed in my mind.
Meanwhile this particular lamp continues to tinker my imagination with its hues of light.
