Road to silence.
Deafening noise. Vehicles passing endlessly. Pushing through waves of people walking, customers, tourists, street sellers. A traffic jam in constant motion where even lifting a crate from one side to the other requires extreme skill – and patience.
And then, the progressively mad traffic, and jammed corridors that seem to grow larger in order to allow room for the counters to be cleaned. The turning wheels of carts almost seem to adopt the rhythm of a tired breath, of a sigh, of eyelids becoming heavier. The steps, after the confusing racket, seem to me to echo solemnly between one picture and the other.
