The Weight of the Passing

We are always moving. Even when we stand still, the earth turns, the blood pulses, the breath leaves the lungs and returns. There is a particular loneliness in a crowd, a sense that we are all carrying our own small burdens across the same bridge, yet never truly touching. We pass one another like ghosts in the gray light of morning. We do not ask where the other is going. We do not ask what they carry, or why the weight of it seems to pull their shoulders toward the ground. We simply keep walking, eyes fixed on the pavement, afraid that if we look too closely, we might see our own reflection in the eyes of a stranger. Is it the destination that matters, or the rhythm of the feet against the stone? What remains when the street finally empties and the noise fades into the evening air?

Vijaya Sri Sanjevi has captured this fleeting rhythm in the image titled Chiang Mai Peanut Guy. It is a reminder of the lives we brush against in the rush of a day. Do you ever wonder where the people you pass are heading?