The pink city

After Gujarat, we headed to Jaipur—the pink city. Pink was my least favourite colour, but after the long clanking train journey, I forgave the city for being pink.

The walled city contained exquisite buildings. Its streets were filled with more camels that the usual cows, goats and oxen as well as cars, bikes and rickshaws that vied for the same space.

We passed outside Hawa Mahal in the heat and dust. The eighteenth-century palace was where women once peered down on to the street without being seen through any one of the hundreds of windows—a reminder of India’s past before British invasion. 

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.