This kills.

Giovanna Battaglia in Alaia, via Jak&Jil

Little Bo Peep all grown up.

Dang, too cute!

Barbie dolls of the world eat your heart out.

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It was morning and I was in the auto-rickshaw. The stretch of road along Mathikere was busy as usual, and the autos, cars and buses were basically crawling. I really don't mind the crawl.

I really don't mind the crawl?

Well, the statement is misleading so let me rephrase that;

I wouldn't mind the crawl- when I have had a relatively good morning and was not running late and have plenty of time to spare.

But as things often goes and as I reckon you would've guessed,

I would have overslept, rushed my bath, barely put myself together, ran late and had very little time to spare, in which situation I would mind the crawl, very much thank you.

Today was one of those relatively spatial, "good mornings". I had a good sleep, bathed long enough, actually ironed my blouse and truth be told, had absolutely no class for me to be late for as the study week has started. Plus the weather today, as it has been for a couple of days so far, was of the perfectly balmy kind. -Overall, great!

So there I was in the autorickshaw, in the middle of the unbelievably noise polluted Mathikere's morning traffic crawl and crowd:

School kids, now in their winter uniform crossing the streets, some already waiting for their school bus at the bus stops. A college student I suppose, with backpack and books in arm and all, chasing for a bus that was just about to pull away from the bus stand. Stores along the street getting ready for the day's business- shutters being pulled up, respective pavements swept of dust and garbage, only for both to be pushed off to the roadside after which I guess other cleaning lady will take care of, or not.(My guess is yes, but never really soon enough or rather, rapid enough for the street to ever be litter-free).

Random motorcycles coming up from behind the auto-rickshaw trying to sneak their ways in between us and the bus, motorcycles very narrowly missing the passenger alighting from the still-moving bus, car honks at decibels that would've been illegal anywhere else, cows trying to cross the road as if it wasn't already packed with vehicles, vegetable and fruit sellers setting up their stores of wooden carts- mounts of tomatoes, pomegranates, apples and aubergines and some leafy herbs, all fresh and very cheap. Auto-drivers getting vocal when their vehicle narrowly missed being hit (usually by other auto-rickshaws), a calf refusing to budge from the middle of the road-Oh, you get the picture!

Basically your average morning.

Finally the auto-rickshaw reached The Tender Chicken(Halal Cut) which was a relief because usually two to three stores ahead, the traffic would become smoother as the road gets wider. In front of The Tender Chicken was an old man and an old woman whom I assume to be husband and wife. Both are, as we say in the medical lingo, moderately built (that is to say, of medium height) and seemingly thin.

They had grey, weather-beaten face; coarse and lined, probably looked older than they actually are. The man was slightly hunched, although that didn't stop him from still being at least two inches taller than his wife.

I did not pay attention to what they were wearing, but the baskets that both of them was carrying attracted my eyes because these are the types of baskets which I've seen manual labourers use to transfer sands and stones at construction sites.

So yes; to my interpretations, they are husband and wife who also happens to be two manual labourers on their way to work on a Monday morning. The thing is they looked a little old and frail too, for that kind of work.

But hey, I guess that's reality for them. That's reality for us.

Anyway, so there I was observing the man and woman. Old, obviously not living the easy life and in short, definitely not your romance-book couple.

The husband was walking a step in front of the wife and I saw the wife saying something to him. The old man, whom I assume because of his age and condition, could be having some degree of hearing difficulties, bent his head a little so that it levels with his wife's. And hey, what do you know, soon after he heard what the woman said, his face breaks into this honest-to-god smile which gave the impression that he thoroughly enjoyed what the woman said. The woman smiled too.

Damn. That did it. That was the best part of the whole morning.

This one's cute.

A dalmation cheating on her partner with a cat. Imagine that.

Cat must've been great.

ha!

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slate.

No, worse. It's bitumenous. Asphalt concrete.

This week is definitely rock (or some form of it). all the way.meh.