Last three months have been pretty different. In fact the entire year 2012 has been life changing experience for me. An eventful year in Europe has culminated with some special journeys through the hearts of India’s rural destinations. Even though it was started as a photo documentary project for Selco, a wonderful organization that aims at lighting the most underprivileged sector of societies in South India, it gave me more than just photographing experience.
In the first set of journey diaries, I would like to post a series of photographs which are true representations of various experiences I have had during my Photo-Documentary journey. Though I found numerous ways through which these places captivated me, in this post, I would try to mainly focus on intricate intertwining relationship of life with some of the unimaginable circumstances in which these people are living. They smiled, laughed, shed tears, shared stories – sometimes silently, sometimes with heavy-hearted words..
Camouflaged! Taken at one of the schools located in a slum located in the heart of Bangalore
They live in the heart of Bangalore. But electricity, water supply and other basic amenities are few luxuries they have never seen. Yet one thing remains the same. Drops of rain bring the same joy. To us, to them.
Color is a rarity here. 38 years back it was flushed out. Dhanushkodi comes in your dream, as a broken series of flashes..
Taken in a place called Halliberu, an utterly remote village at the bottom of Sahyadri Mountains near Kodachadri. Life is just unbelievably fragile here..
Siddhis, a special tribe having origins from Africa, now have blended into the deep rural settlements in Northern Karnataka. Taken at one of the interestingly build houses where touching stories were heard from the young girl.
It is the last one right? She asked!
One moment, one request, one click and seven priceless expressions! Children from an underprivileged area on the outskirts of C
Her words were priceless. Her memories were timeless. Shanthavva, 90 years old freedom fighter, now fights for her daily life, yet with the same undying spirit to tell her stories of life. Taken at Freedom Fighters village, Dharwad
Every once in a while in life, we get to see some miracles. Some of them we create, some of them we see in others, but most of them are connected with the magics of nature. She has created every possible wonder on this planet we live. Infinite colors are unleashed every day, unimaginable stories unravel silently in the distant corners, rains, clouds, the Sun and snow paint the planet, and this amazing saga never ends. I was fortunate to see one of these magical places, right in the middle of my research internship in the UK. Quite unbelievably in one of the prettiest island of the Mediterranean.
My European friends had warned about the possible addiction that might happen with the place. It sure did happen. But in a much extraordinary way. Majorca offered with its pristine beauty of Sun, sea and sands. But that was kind of expected. At least I had heard about them.
What I did not know was the way our planet has sculpted herself into incredible features of mountains and ridges in the shores of the Mediterranean sea. I was stunned looking at the immensity of the northern mountains standing in their sheer grandeur, spreading across the horizons of spectacular blue seas and filled with the freshness of Mediterranean green. The vista it created with the symphony of cloudless azure sky and sparkling blue of the sea, mesmerized me to the extent I never imagined.
I found myself standing small, an insignificant creature of human species, a species which has not even spent a minutest fraction of time on this planet, compared to the millions of years of intense activities occurred on those rocks and seas and mountains. I just wished, I just could, thank her for this insurmountable proportion of beauty in her creation.
If all these nature’s tapestries were not enough, a whole new set of colors spilled out as the Sun began his journey in the western horizons of the Mediterranean. The sharpness of day light paved way to the subtleties of longer wavelength lights!
Crowded sea-shore slowly melted into to the whispers of muted words. Golden tendrils of those little girls’ hair dangling with the flow of breeze, brushed with more adorable colors. Suddenly the world there stood still, with canvases I had thought only possible in imagination! They looked clichéd, for a moment. But they were not, they were freshly forming in the vicinities, but fading out of the composition very next moment.
I stood there, with my camera clicking, a sound which was accompanied only with the orchestra of the sea waves, occasionally with the little ripples of those whispers ripping the fabric of an existing symphony..