These flowers are not in the flower market, but at the entrance to the cemetery in Delhi. It was one of the few western style flower stalls I saw. The rest were either in shops or more often, on the blankets of vendors on the street.

This vendor at the wholesale market has just about sold all his supply for the morning.

The closeups of the flower garlands simply do not do them justice. The fragrance, the vibrancy of the yellows and oranges against the brown dirt is hard to describe.

Bundles of marigolds fresh from the villages. The garlands are used to drape the pictures of saints and family ancestors. While I was in India, there was a huge scandal going on in West Bengal because a former highly favored governor's portrait was not draped in preparation for the inaugural ceremonies of the new incoming governor. That small oversight provided days of political fodder for the newspapers and media.

The use of flowers spills beyond religious devotion and permeates everyday life. These marigolds were nestled with votive candles in a bowl of water in my hotel. I began to look forward to seeing each morning and evening what the staff would put out. It was different each day.

Can you imagine coming home to something like this every evening?.....(!)