Rounding the corner of Jantar Mantar, a lone woman sat framed by the burnt orange architecture. The scarf of her bright yellow outfit lifted by a gentle breeze in a beautiful contrast to the surrounding color. Startled, I stared at her warm happy eyes for just a second and then turned away.
She would not be considered one of the most beautiful women of India. But in that second her bright eyes conveyed something so deeply beautiful. Looking far away into the gardens, a small smile on her face, she had caught me staring as I quickly turned away and looked at the information board just across the sidewalk. I wanted to look back, I wanted to take a picture of her there, so beautiful in such a unique way. But I did not want to be rude, and I hesitated.
I turned around again to survey the landscape and observed a man walk up to her. As they departed down the walkway, I turned to walk the other way. Something made me look back though, and as I did they turned and looked toward me with warm smiles and a kind of knowing in their eyes. And I knew that we were sharing an experience, that we both wanted to look at each other more but were too shy to do so. And at the same time there was suddenly a connection that seemed like a thousand years of friendship. It lasted only a second. No one wanted to be caught staring. I took a breath and turned away.
As I walked through the grounds, so peaceful, I kept thinking about her. About that moment, that connection and the look in her eyes when I first saw her. I sat in the grass and thought about that instant when you could see straight into her joy of the place and time. I sat for maybe 15 or 20 minutes and then got up to depart.
And then she appeared out of nowhere.
Without hesitating this time, I walked over to her. She did not speak any English, nor did the man who was with her. But through gestures I asked if she would return to the place where I first saw her so I could take a photo. And she agreed. While she was settling in for a photo, the man said very gently, with a touch of pride, "my wife." He had a gentle smile on his face and soft eyes, and he watched her carefully as if to ensure she was most comfortable.
I took two pictures and she was delighted to see them. But true to impermanence, they had no computer and too little English for me to figure out how to send a photo to them. They smiled and I smiled, and soon we again went our separate ways.
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