Looking Through My Lens….

Hi, So I’m in India at the moment and I have a tendency to get quickly bored, and borderline frustrated, when the Wi-Fi stops working. *sigh* It happens quite frequently here and often for long periods of time, therefore leaving me tragically alone and bored.

My dad felt that going on long drives, in a practically dinosaur aged car, with bad breaks, no air conditioning and annoying seats covers that DO NOT aid the heat situation, might help. Thanks Dad.  And I forgot to mention how I had to lug around my camera so I could get “some nice shots of natural and unique things in Indian villages”.

Whoopee…. But what I did love about the long drives was this amazing sense of liberation, which is so hard and rare for me to feel while in India, the smell of fresh unpolluted air, and the free wind seeping into my skin.

So, as we went through this one village  while back, something that caught my eye, with a bit of prompting from my parents, were these four ancient ladies, and I mean that with the a high sense of admiration and wonder, sitting on the front porch area of a worn brick house.

I was itching to capture them with my camera, so I shyly and nervously asked if I could take some photos of them and they surprisingly agreed. The thing is, in abroad or foreign, which is a term used to refer places other than here in India, most people would feel a bit creeped out if I asked generally to take a photo of them, I know that I would too, and decline. I found out that there is an old superstition believed by rural folks that taking a picture will steal your soul, so many refused to be photographed, though I am yet to see such people.

Anyway, one of the women, who was quite dazzling for her age, was wearing this beautiful gold necklace, as well as other unique jewellery pieces, that looked radiant on her orange cotton sari, and her old fashioned village look was so intense and rich, but simple.

They all actively spoke and posed, though a tad flustered and curious, adamantly requesting me to print and give them these photos, which I assured I would. I later contemplated that it had probably been quite a while since they might’ve had photos taken of them.

By the time I finished getting the shots I wanted, I small group of neighbors and bypassing locals had surrounded us, to see what the odd girl with the camera was doing. Soon, many others wanted to have photos taken and I turned to into a good-natured photographer.

I was later saved by my gracious Dad, and as he thanked them and explained why I was taking photos, I felt connected to the bucolic village and also had a regard for these people associated with veneration. I’ll have to visit once again to give them the photos and maybe capture some more of them and their village.

AJ xo


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