The street in India is so rewarding, and not simply because of the sheer amount of activity found there. This activity is variously, and often simultaneously, intense, authentic, informative, open, lyrical, poised, majestic, curiously intimate, spontaneous, unaware, welcoming, indifferent, unassuming, routine. The simplest, most mundane, prosaic tasks can be done with such lyricism, and it is a worthwhile challenge to capture that, as a subject in itself.
I recall a woman sweeping along the banks of the Ganges. I remember the bicycle repairman poised before an impossible task. I saw a man delicately applying a tincture to his brow, a group of women witnessing a baby’s head being shorn, a bather, back arched, feet curled inwards, fire in the eyes, holding a sari to dry in the sunbreeze as she barked orders to a companion, and a man dozing on the paving, his forearm on his elbow pivot, held perpendicular as he cradles his head in his other hand. And I was glad to discover I had taken this pair as I remembered them, lyrically poised in the mundane task of balancing a bucket of ballast.
This was one of those situations where you see a repetitive action, set your lens at a certain distance, set your exposure, wait for the action to be repeated, and then pounce.
Ricopedra says
The best I’ve seen from your India!…