He sat on the tire and just watched the world go by.
He watched in fascination as the barber worked on his friend.
They scurried along to the cemetery carrying their precious marigold bouquet for the ceremony.
He disdainfully regarded me through heavy lidded eyes, his stare way older than his years.
She patiently watched me, only cautioning me not to come too close, else the buffalo would not allow the milking.
The grand finale of the 'aarti' ritual on the ghats of the Ganga ended with a synchronized throwing of marigold petals.
Rosa took her drumming role very seriously as she marched in the Dios de los muertos parade.
She strode out of the church with her head held high, and her daughter mirrored her stance.
Behind the burqa, she's just another woman, unable to resist the shiny trinkets.
The beautifully coiffed head, the doe-eyes, the sensuous mouth.
Motivated by her yells and the threat of the stick, the buffalos moved remarkably fast.
The young boy watches the man walk away with the matching bull he just purchased
The figurative not literal anonymity and loneliness of a giant metropolis.
I looked out of my taxi window and saw the man pushing his handcart to make his daily wages. At the same time beyond him a passenger was handing out crisp bills for his ride. I wondered- was the fare greater than the hand cart man's daily wages?