mardi 3 novembre 2009


The dust. The people. Everywhere. The horns. The colours. The lights. The children. Everywhere. The stray dogs. The altars. In the street. The presents. The women wearing saris. People on the freeway. The 'auto'. A family on a motobike. The buses. Crowded. The smells. The garbages. The flowers. The fruit juice. The fans. The accent. The hindi. The money. The negociations. The birds. The spicies. The chillis. The songs. The mosquitoes. The eagles. The cold showers. The power-cuts. The incense. The food. The water. The ants. The warmth. The friends. The night at 6pm. The rain which never comes. The cows. In the street. The white sky. The ruins. The rich people. And the poor people. The rice. The fires. In the street. The roads. The noise. The parrots.


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