Madness Weaves Around Them

*(writing from a day spent in Haridwar, Northern India)*

Startled as a monkey darts directly in front of me.

Eternal chaos unfolds below.

Vigorous flow of the Ganges sets the backdrop.

In the heat, I sip on cool water out of a bottle labeled, “soul”. This privileged liquid hydrates my system as I keep watching from the second floor.

A woman sits in the middle of a restless road, cradling her baby boy. He is sound asleep amidst deafening honks, excited shouts, constant waves of footsteps, motorcycles, and taxis. Even a cow steps very near, unnoticed by them.

The madness weaves around them.

Drenched in daily dirt, Mother and son blend in with the street. A shopkeeper sweeps his consolidated pile of garbage towards her, motioning movement to a new spot. She shifts 10 feet over and finds her new home.

Apathy is thick in the air.

A cat now darts in front of me, proudly carrying a flattened, old, dead mouse. Hunter pride in this jungle of scarcity.

Within seconds, I hear a loud cat fight; they battle over the prized possession. Fighting for survival just like everyone else.

Chaos feeds chaos.

But the baby sleeps.

All is well as brilliant colors migrate towards Mother Ganges for a sacred bath.

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