Pots They Bear

They walk the dusty road with clay pots cradled close, still carrying the warmth of the ground that shaped them. Fragile in form yet born of fire, the pots hold more than craft; they carry livelihood, tradition, and the labour of patient hands.

As the sun sinks low, evening light spills across the road in shades of amber and gold. Side by side they walk, moving with the quiet rhythm of two souls who have shared both work and life. 

In the stillness of that fading hour, there is something timeless about them. Like the pots they bear, their hearts too have journeyed through fire, emerging not hardened, but stronger, gentler, and inseparable.

Some moments ask for nothing, yes, nothing more than to be witnessed.

Random Thoughts,

29 November 2022,

The Village of Salmora,

Majuli Island,

India.