MADE IN NIRVANA
We all die sooner or later
Luna was sitting in the garden when Maria joined her. A rickshaw accompanied them to the Johari Bazaar, a market specializing in silver and semi-precious stones where Luna wanted to buy some jewellery. The ambience, the colours, the sounds, the lights, the smells of the market were grabbing and fascinating, but most striking of all was the young woman she was with. Her presence conveyed joy. Luna seemed to illuminate the places she entered with her good mood, the attentive way she looked at the person she was speaking to, the consideration she showed toward those she came into contact with, even for a brief moment.
During dinner, Luna paid particular attention to Franca, who began to feel at ease, flattered by the attention she was receiving. Maria remained quiet, observing the change in Franca, who laughed at the way Luna was telling the adventures of the day: the man sleeping on his rickshaw with his legs up, balanced on the three-wheeled bicycle and snoring with his mouth open. She described the motorbike that carried an entire family, father, mother, two sons and a goat. She told them of the things made of silver and semi-precious stones, bracelets, rings, anklets, that she had bought to sell back in England. Franca insisted on seeing everything.
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