Lost inspiration

I entered the huge white tent and was immediately hit by a blast of cool breeze which was in sharp contrast to the sweltering weather outside. As my eyes adjusted from the harsh glare to that of the more dimly lit interior, I stood in total awe at my surroundings. 

There were long rows of stalls set up like a neat marketplace – a glistening land under a tented heaven. Everything glittered and shimmered and shone in a long sea of traditional Indian wear and accessories – my own local zouk as it were. 

Racks of ornate bracelets, hand beaded shalwars, sarees and ghararas and streams of necklaces all tempted the eye. There was no colour left out and no jewel left unfixed. There was an overwhelming sense that I had entered the interior of Aladdin’s genie bottle. 

In need of a change from the usual weekend movie/ mall/ beach outing I had decided to visit the ever nomadic Indian Expo and it did not disappoint. You could not help but feel surges of inspiration by the vast beauty and range of colour before you. 

I marveled at the splendour of it all but wondered about the wares themselves and the journey they had undergone. Here now yes, but originally from a land so far away – oh what stories they would tell if these goods could speak! 

One day I may have the courage to traverse the seas between us and experience the origins of these reminders of a traditional world. I may learn the secret language of ancient inspiration and gain a previously unfound influence. 



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