[Originally Posted by Anna da Costa] Ye zindagi, ye zindagi, ye zindagi, Ek din tujhe daga de degi, Isse pehle ki ye tujhe daga de, Tu isse daga de de…⁠1 Muhammad Anwar’s voice was gravelly, slow and deep. It rustled on the s’s and z’s as the Urdu couplets danced in rhythmic gusts from his tooth-bare mouth, carried on tobacco-stained breath. He paused, looking at us intently through pale brown eyes. Do you know what this means? We shook our heads. ... read full story

[Originally Posted by Anna Da Costa]Anna, a beautiful soul in Delhi writes about an  encounter with a Saeed Ji - a man who lives on the street, but blessed with a heart of gold.  _____________ At first sight he was almost invisible, curled into a spot between the black painted railings that fronted the tomb and the trunk of a low hanging Ashoka tree. Most mornings he was to be found here, wrapped in a long black anorak, knees pulled to his chest as he looked into the distance. Th... read full story