He sat next to a small white temple, where people knelt to pray and make offerings. He was slightly obscured by the colorful umbrella propped up by his side. Incense floated out from behind the umbrella, painting the sky a fluid shade of white.
A few steps further, beyond the shade of the umbrella, I looked over my shoulder and saw that he was an old saddhu dressed in orange gowns. His beard was flowing white.
He was looking through an illustrated book, flipping slowly, page by page. I glimpsed one of the colorful illustrations- it looked like an intricate tarot card, elaborate swirls and painstaking, future-telling details.
I wondered what he was doing. Was he a fortune-teller? As I passed, he gave me a large, toothless grin as the sun beat down on his shoulders.