The Voyeur, a night in Delhi

A day later. I wake up in the middle of the night. Too hot to sleep. I smell the dust in the room. Listen to a dog barking outside. Stick my head out the curtain and look down at the square. I am in the dark. The perfect location.

A middle-aged man with a big belly is sitting on a plastic chair in the middle of the streets. He looks drunk and seems to observe all the people walking past. It seems like everyone knows him, as they all stop and briefly seem to  report to him what they are doing.

Another man is walking around.  He looks a bit younger, in his mid- twenties. Big belly, bored and possibly drunk as well. First he walks up and down the square. An exhausted and extremely unmotivated expression on his face. Shortly he disappears and comes back with an old  piece of cloth. He starts cleaning the handful of vehicles that are parked on the square. I wonder who hires him. Dread on his face. Would he ever get to sleep.. Would the guy on the plastic chair be controlling him?

Suddenly a movement inside the Muslim community building catches my attention. I look inside and see all the young buys laying on the floor. An older man gets up and walks outside to splash his face. Some more movements inside. I wish I could see the interior better. Are they sleeping on mats or just on the floor?

Now a western guy, long blonde hair, probably in his mid thirties, walks up to the square. He as well seems to know the guy in the plastic chair, they have a brief conversation and the guy moves towards a big- hippie style motorcycle. For Sale. He gets on his bike and leaves.

I look back into the Muslim building. Some young boys are awake now too. Every now and then someone walks outside as they have got their own area, separated from the street by a big wall.

Back on the square. A man in a suit passes, followed by two emaciated construction workers carrying sickles. As I noticed earlier our square is part of a construction route all around the neighborhood. A human chain is used to carry bricks and heavy construction materials from one place to the next, where every worker collects materials from another worker and passes them on. These guys look broken. Zombies.

It is almost 5.00 AM now. Slowly I am getting tired again. I close the curtain. No one ever saw me.

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