sculpting in cement

everyday i pass this man, who is carving with the tools of a mason, doing the work of an artist, high above the road, embellishing the entrance to an old colonial house which is being restored.

Right below him, Bombay's life continues; dogs roaming, dirty children begging- their mummy and aunts cooking on the pavement, beautiful well-fed cats playing, cars honking, bikes revving, boys racing by on their bicycle, skinny grannies in tatters tottering on the road-the shoe-mender in his corner in the dust on the street, his box and glue and nails waiting for the next shoe, boys working in the ''Modern Juice Centre'' in their blue uniform, scrubbing the metal vats and buckets, shining in the mellow morning sun...