Slow Living

Visited the Souk. Nothing romantic about it. It’s downtown and dirty. 

Strolled around and absorbed the atmosphere. Sat outside a teashop, 

on the stool normally occupied by the shopowner. Drank my tea and watched the world go by. 

Narrow alley.  Observed the taylor behind his old-fashioned sewing machine. 

He allowed me to take a picture. Maybe coz he’s young. 

The teashop owner did not want his picture taken, but allowed me one of the kettles. 

Later on had an omelette-roll. You don’t have to escape the rat race here. There is no race. Slow living at its best. Can’t imagine heart-attacks and hypertension being high on the list of medical problems. Bought some Indian/Pakistani sweets (desserts) – coconut and condensed milk – that’s what it tasted like. Heavenly. 

In ‘Kashmir Fabrics’ I indulged myself in the spectacle of colour. 

The young man selling oud and frankincense also didn’t mind me taking his picture. 

I always ask. Half the time they say no. The other half is what makes it worth it. I don’t ask any Saudis. They’re pretty unapproachable. I thought to myself, this is as authentic as it gets. 

How many people in the ‘outside world’ ever get to experience this? Very few. I consider myself blessed. 

Only the trained eye will find what is essential. Actually, it is romantic after all.