Today we headed back to Paharganji Market to select our shawls. There is one vendor that we love because his prices are reasonable and we know that the quality is good. But his shop is located in this particular market. I wish I had the words to adequately describe this market. It is a place where multitasking skills are survival tools. Think narrow streets lined with tiny shops. Think pothole galore. Think people, animal, food cart, rickshaws and autoshaws all trying to obtain passage on a street no wider than two cars side by side. On top of it all, it is a pickpocket's heaven. You learn to do the scan: side to side for what's about to hit or pickpocket you, and then down for what you are about to step in or on. As I did the scan, this scene behind me caught my eyes and reminded me of home. Budweiser beer.
I understand that it is an oxen, and not Clydesdale horses. Rice not beer. Such minor details. If you hum the ditties from the commericals, you'll see the Budweiser light.
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