Once I left Bangalore, we hit the Indian countryside. There were farms and open fields, with the occasional roadside restaurants or stores. Occasionally, I saw small towns. A bunch of nameless, to me, places usually plastered with advertising. Coca Cola, with its ubiquitous red sign with white stylized cursive, is probably recognizable anywhere in the world.
This grouping of buildings attracted my attention. Built better and more substantial than the others, it was warmly lit with the rising sun.
It’s hard for me to date this place. Its simple modern lines point to a new structure, but the rustic bricks behind the facade point to something older. Despite its minimal construction, the combination of colors, metal awnings, and worn signs give it character. Age, dust, and a warm sunrise can do wonders for the humblest of buildings.
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