What is it like to be on the other side? The other side of the city called the old city. Rioted with the colors of the festival, it took no longer than few minutes for the folks to embrace me into the wholesomeness of its celebration. Armed with the digital camera, I stole as much as I could, for many welcomed me while the others gave me a quirky glance. Nevertheless, I went on with my first photography assignment with an I-have-to smile. Beads entwined with threads hung all over the pushcarts. Small and cramped shops were packed with sweet meats yet the people didn’t seem to get enough. The old city of Amdavad shone in its full glory displaying the state’s quintessential craft works. The beautifully decorated thalis, torans and framed images of gods and goddesses seemed to enrich the festive mood of the place. The shadowed lives continued to flutter under the grand sunlit Lal Darwaja and it grew larger with the onset of the evening. The clicks accelerated as I carved my way through the ever pushing streets. In the process, I too pushed others to grab my perfect moment. Indeed, the colors of materialism and life blended triumphantly.
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