|The road lay narrow and straight before us, but where do we go if a split appeared? Left or right?|
It was then that the umbrella men appeared. They were a duo, elderly men from the village we were passing, dressed identically. The taller of the two came round the bend of the road first, Raincloud was soon conversing with him in the Marathi, the local language.
The other man followed minutes later, a slow walker trailing behind. They must have started on this morning walk together. The umbrella men were only glad to guide us, they were men who loved to talk, for the joy of it. So even as Raincloud chatted with them, I clicked these pictures.