clasped
There I was in the middle of Jaipur making an acquaintance with one of the cross-legged men weaving flowers with twine.
And there I was in the middle of Jaipur, speaking fragments of English in order to be understood by a local who communicated with hand gestures, hoping my eyes could translate.
He motioned his hand to his mouth. Asked if I wanted a smoke. I declined; I don’t smoke. Then he asked if I wanted a drink, his hands moving back and forth, mimicking the action that a hand does when it delivers a cup to a mouth.
I said yes.
Minutes later, this man arrived on a bike with eyes of warmth. He carried a metal tray with a couple cups of chai. And then, there I was in the middle of the flower market, understanding that culture doesn’t have to have barriers, when we can always find things in common.
I clasped my hands in gratitude.
He clasped back.
I smiled. He smiled. It was all the translation we needed. \\ #coffeetographer