This place looks and smells like India, but it’s faith and sounds are that of the Middle East. The call to prayer punctuates the days and prompts me to take a moment to stop, be present and take a quiet breath. It’s a lovely practice.
The streets look like any less-developed city in India, but there are mosques where in India I would find temples. Many of the faces seem very Indian, but with orange beards and Arabic greetings and names. This is an interesting combination for my eye, as my default is to assume everyone is Hindu, but of course this is not the case. It’s good to question and be aware of my assumptions.
The call to prayer wakes this enormous city of 20 million people up, and then closes the day in the evening. Faith is ingrained into this life, and in some way I find it humbling.
I’m getting used to this: right now I feel like I am between two worlds.
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