Small town niceties;
Little things, really-
An hour or two
chatting up friends
And watching the world go by...

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Nikon F75, 28-105mm
Fuji 100ISO
2005, Pushkar, Rajasthan, India

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Nikon F75, 28-105mm
Fuji 100ISO
2005, Ahmedabad-Udaipur Highway, Rajasthan, India.

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So you think only the likes of Nike and Reebok know about merchandise, eh? Well, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present to you Brand India. Or, if you're the finicky type who likes his/ her infobytes to be contexed 'just so', to be more precise Religion conveniently packaged onto a T-shirt...

Forget the outsized tick-mark with the tagline proclaiming loudly Just Do It. For Rs.50 (or just over a dollar, if you prefer to deal in foreign exchange) you could buy yourself a shot of multi-coloured moksha in the form of a beatifically smiling Shiva adorning your T-shirt front...

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Nikon F75, 28-105mm
Fuji 200ISO
2005, Pushkar, Rajasthan, India.

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Bel-Totas. That's what they're called. Bel, meaning vine or creeper and Tota, meaning parrot. Roughly translated that would be- a parrot-vine. I know, I know these are elephants. White, at that. Not even remotely green. And no they don't have red trunks either. I can see that as well as you. Humour me please...

The villages around Pushkar have a thriving handicraft cottage industry. Today, that is. Wasn't always so. Was a time when the village women made parrot-vines in their free time. Yes, miniature, stuffed, cloth parrots hung on meters and meters of braided cloth. Decorated them with tassels and tinsels and sequins and bunched them up together to use as screens. To divide the living space inside the house, you know. Why parrots? I don't know. I'm not quite sure they know either or they would have told me. Yes, we asked.

At some point in time someone figured there might be people living in cities who'd want to use bel-tota screens too (don't ask me why, I don't know). And sure enough there were! And a thriving cottage industry was born. Eventually, I'm sure, some of these city dwellers got fed up with all the parrots hanging around their house (who wouldn't?). Couldn't we have something different, they asked. Like other birds, for example. Or better still- not birds. Camels or tigers or what-have-yous. No?

Obviously, the villagers complied. They probably figured they needed the money and I don't blame them. The long and short of it? This fascinating specimen- a vine of hanging elephants. White, at that I know...

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Nikon F75, 70-300mm, 1:4 Macro at 300mm
Fuji 400ISO
2005, Pushkar, Rajasthan, India.

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The town of Pushkar, situated around 15kms from the city of Ajmer in Rajasthan, is built around the Pushkar Lake. It is a holy town, of around 12000 inhabitants, and home to several temples- notable among them being the temple of Brahma (one of the Hindu Trinity). A city of temples, naturally, attracts wandering sadhus (Hindu holy men) from all over the country who come here to spend a few days in the company of God.

The sadhus have a very strict code of life. They remain celibate and give up all the worldly pleasures in search of the greater truth. They live off the charity of townsfolk and their determination to live a life of penance and eternal seeking.

Pushkar, unfortunately, also attracts a lot of foreign tourists. Ostensibly in search of the same greater truth but quite incapable of giving up the wordly treasures. The hotel industry caters to their every whim and fancy- drugs, booze, sex- the works. To me, during my stay there, Pushkar smacked of commercialism and all the entrapments that come with it.

This moment, though, seemed too good to miss. Bleached white houses. Deserted street. And a lone sadhu walking towards the bathing ghats in the mid-afternoon heat. Pity, the garment shops lining the street betray what Pushkar has really become. Oh well, nothing's perfect...

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Nikon F75, 28-105mm
Fuji 200ISO
2005, Pushkar, Rajasthan, India.

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The human mind is a strange thing. Consider this- a grainy, monochrome, macro image of a marigold. Look at it carefully. Let every detail seep in (or as much detail as a grainy, monochrome will allow). Take your time.

Now close your eyes. Try to remember every single marigold you've ever seen. As a child. As a grown up. At home or in the fields. If you've grown up in India it shouldn't be difficult at all. Marigold torans are ubiquitous during weddings, on festival days and in some of the more orthodox households, even on ordinary days like today.

Go back to those moments. Let your mind drift. And watch the colour creep back in. The rich yellows and the deep goldens. Feel the details fill themselves out. The crepe-like petals encircling a heart of miniature towers- fortress like. The marigold in all its splendour- only in your mind's eye.

Truly, the human mind is a strange thing.

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Nikon F75, 70-300mm, 1:2 Macro at 300mm
Illford 400ISO
2005, My workshop at Khatraj, Some 25kms from Ahmedabad.

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