That afternoon they bicycled to the bazaar, Indian ahead, weaving expertly through clusters of shoppers while Niks followed, sketchbook bouncing in his backpack. They argued—playfully—about whether to buy the hand-painted coasters or the bright, embroidered cushion covers. Indian wanted the cushion covers; Niks loved the coasters. They compromised by buying both and carrying them in opposite hands like spoils from a tiny victory.
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Spirituality is not a segregated activity. It is woven into the commute. The auto-rickshaw has a picture of Ganesha on the dashboard. The truck has "Horn OK Please" painted alongside a lotus. The software engineer has a tiny tulsi plant on the balcony. That afternoon they bicycled to the bazaar, Indian