Personal memories of a street I often used to walk along!
Miles of jewelers, burnished Indian gold,
miles of terraces, very old,
women in saris, gracing the streets -
silken rainbows, wherever they meet.
Shops sell fruit and vegetables
things for the home,
kitchen utensils,
josticks, essential oils, and incense -
the cafes, and curry restaurants.
Down a narrow side street,
in the baking heat,
a man backs his car
o’er a coconut.
The hairy shell splits,
and bursts, with a crunch,
oozes white milk -
and he gathers it up.
Outside the mosque
people stand in queues -
and row upon row
of sandals, and shoes.
Whatever the hour,
whatever the day,
the Bollywood music
that people play
as they drive up and down
The Golden Mile -
the memories
always make me smile.
Copyright Suzy Davies 04/28/2016. All Rights Reserved.
Could be an Indian/Pakistani community anywhere or in one of those countries.
While I was in a brief stay in Karachi my host took me to lunch in a suburb where the street looked right out of a Western US movie with a boardwalk of establishments with a rail out front to tie your horse, camel, donkey or goat to. Inside was a Chinese restaurant with the menu clearly written in English. Some of the best Chinese food I ever ate.
My memories as an immigrant professional woman in Ottawa, Canada 47 years ago. A new life after having survived the liberal war of a new country Bangladesh on December 16, 1971.
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While I was in a brief stay in Karachi my host took me to lunch in a suburb where the street looked right out of a Western US movie with a boardwalk of establishments with a rail out front to tie your horse, camel, donkey or goat to. Inside was a Chinese restaurant with the menu clearly written in English. Some of the best Chinese food I ever ate.
Ron