From the city palace, the ghost of the disabled emperor still gazes at the city from his wheeled sofa. The city’s colour alternates depending on the colour of the stained window.
The secret is that one who goes into the Pichola emerges from the Vltava.
I wrote a short essay on the state I call home. It’s a personal, dream-like impression of Rajasthan and its four cities. You can read it here.
With gratitude to Youssef Rakha.
2 responses to “My Heart Doesn’t Want”
So lovely, Suadamini, the text and the haunting images.
Thank you, Joe. So glad you appreciate this. I had been wanting to write something short after working on my manuscript for so long … and so, this.