Once I'd walked all the way to Johari Bazaar, I realized that I didn't want to look at any more bangles, sarees, chandelier earrings, padlocks, flamboyant mirror dresses for tiny maharanis, "pashmina t-shirts"😏, foot pedal sewing machines, Rajasthani puppets, tiffin boxes, or slippers with upward pointing ties. I did see a guy up on the 2nd floor of a hotel selling men's striped turbans, but I was just too footsore to cross the street to look them over. Instead I hailed a very poor rickshaw wallah, with a beat up rickshaw to match, and negotiated a fare of 40 rupees to go back to my haveli. The poor man really worked so hard, and he'd obviously never taken a fare to Khatu Haveli in his life, so I gave him 50 instead. His smile was the biggest I've seen in such a long time. Maybe what amounts to paying 75 cents instead of 60 seems trivial to me, a wealthy woman from the west that he can barely understand. I hope he and his family get to eat a little better tonight. Karma means to be subjected to retributive justice for past misdeeds. Maybe this tiny bit of generosity will help balance my account. Who needs any more bling bangles when you have a chance to help another human being? India can give you perspective for sure.
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