Tribal garb, cell phone and Hello Kitty socks.
Dust everywhere- sidewalks, streets, air and people covered in a thin gray film.
One shopkeeper sweeps his sidewalk and the next splashes water from a drinking bottle then closes his door in surrender.
The courtyard of the guesthouse a mass of construction noise, a pack of dogs rescued from the street and among it we drink masala tea.
The courtyard of the guesthouse a mass of construction noise, a pack of dogs rescued from the street and among it we drink masala tea.
We pass quickly in conversation through the women and children begging at the taxi window.
Horns honk and beep to announce their presence.
I sit still in the endless bustle and wonder,
I sit still in the endless bustle and wonder,
"What were you Nepal, before the endless days of hustle? What had you been to deserve this?"
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