Once in a year, the Oberoi grounds become a mini shopping hub for Delhi. The whole place is adorned with vibrant handicrafts, gorgeous garments and mouth-watering food. It's a pseudo robin hood event that takes money from the rich (by selling them expensive goods of course) and gives some of the loot to the Blind Relief Association (it is their initiative after all). Although a bit heavy on one's regular festival budget, this mela is easily a must-visit because of its sheer spread of amazing gifts, decorations, clothes... You name it.
Enchanted by such abundance of colors, I made up my mind to do some serious shopping, hiding all guilt of overspending behind the pretense of charity. Picking and rejecting knickknacks from amid this grandeur, I stumbled upon one stall which rendered all the glamour away.
These were colors too. But they narrated a different story, where glamour was not in the riches but in freedom. Where light was not hanging from expensive chandeliers but glimmering in the eyes that desired that luxury.
To us, who take their possessions for granted at times, was this a painting or a mirror? I wonder.
These were colors too. But they narrated a different story, where glamour was not in the riches but in freedom. Where light was not hanging from expensive chandeliers but glimmering in the eyes that desired that luxury.
To us, who take their possessions for granted at times, was this a painting or a mirror? I wonder.
