A few days ago Sophie and I went to a silk store. The door was tiny and you had to go down a couple of stairs to get inside. From that first impression I never would’ve guessed the beauty held behind those old walls. We hunched down to go through the door and then the show began, endless fabrics where shown to us. All of the sudden we were sitting in the middle of an ocean of colors, patterns, and textures.
Being surrounded by all of these fabrics made me realize that the silk store was a very good representation of the city we are living in. Ruled by an organized cahos, overwhelming at first but incredibly beautiful when you start putting attention to the details. 30 second wouldn’t pass until there was a completely different, equally gourgeous, fabric laying on top of the last one. Vibrant and colorful. Some of the silk was soft, some softer, some indescribable. All of them composing a unique environment that cannot be described with words. The day when we leave Varanasi gets closer and closer and there are still many places that I havn’t seen. We leave the silk shop knowing that we only saw a small percentage of the fabrics, with the hope of one day coming back for more , and with the joy of having had found this little hidden silk shop.