‘Don’t know about you guys, but to me every post is a challenge. A compelling urge to do something different. Tell a different story. Not easy. Though the “pot-pourri” concept has helped me in that respect. Variety is the mother of difference. I hope. 🙂 The above street art is coming down the stairs from Montmartre. Amélie Poulain’s grocery store is only a few blocks away.
A rainy day in Paris. (What else is new?) Notre-Dame in the background. My beloved book-boxes in the foreground.
The vineyard at Montmartre. The vineyard is as old as 944 AD. Wine is still produced every year, sold at auction for charity. Never tasted it. Some say it is a bit “green”. 🙂 But you know Parisians. 😉
This is not a hat. Outside the Magritte museum. Brussels 2013.
Street art somewhere. Bogotá?
DC swings. Washington DC, 2015.
Calcutta, c.1950. I know, I know, they say Kolkata now. So confusing.
Lex, Gladius, Legis, Custos. Law, Sword, Custom. Ile de la Cité, Paris.
Kenya, c. 1969. A Hyrax. Believe it or not, they are close cousins to elephants. A word of advice: Never, ever feed the animals. Right after the picture was taken, this little bugger jumped and bit my finger. 😦 My bad.
Trocadéro, Paris, 2014-15. The Eiffel tower is right behind me.
My very first car, with Zahman the bearer and my personal driving instructor. Karachi, Pakistan, 1954-55. I believe the car was custom-made, manufactured in Karachi’s Bohri Bazaar, based on a sketch by my mother. There was no hatred then. WWII and its million dead, was over. Independence had been achieved. Peace for a while. My mother had her suppliers in the bazaar, jewelers who could turn out 24K gold ear-rings in a flash, with a simple sketch. Ironmongers who could piece together a US Army jeep, complete with pedals, headlights (fake) and wheels. No safety belt.
Shah, the Pashtun cook from the mountains, Zahman the bearer and his proud moustache, my Ayah, the “brown people” as they called themselves, pretty much raised me, the little white boy, as much as my parents did.
Those last pictures are dedicated to the people and children of Lahore, Pakistan. May the hatred fade away, and Salaam aleikoum, the Peace be with you.
** Number 9. Number 9. Rings a bell?