Smile at Each Other

 

“Smile at each other, smile at your wife, smile at your husband, smile at your children, smile at each other — it doesn’t matter who it is — and that will help you to grow up in greater love for each other.”
(Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Albanian born Indian Missionary and Founder of the Order of the Missionaries of Charity. Nobel Prize for Peace in 1979. 1910-1997)

This is another portrait that I have shot last Sunday as I was walking near Lal ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
Then I met several kids and young men bathing in the holy waters and listening to the lectures of a priest sitting under a big umbrella.
When they saw me each asked for a picture and of course I was happy to make a few portraits that I promised to print and to deliver at the same place today.

Illumination of Heart

 

“Soul receives from soul that knowledge,
therefore not by book nor from tongue.
If knowledge of mysteries come after
emptiness of mind, that is illumination of heart.”
(A poem by alal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – 1207–1273)

Last Sunday I was walking near Lal ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras) and I met several kids and young men who were bathing and listening to the lectures of a priest sitting under a big umbrella.
When they saw me each asked for a picture and of course I was happy to make a few portraits that I promised to print and to deliver at the same place tomorrow morning…

Whoever Brought Me Here

 

“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? 
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.
This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.”
(“Whoever Brought Me Here” a poem by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – 1207–1273)

This picture was shot a few days ago along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).

The Lady with a Red Sari

 

This picture was shot a few days ago at Prayag ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I was watching this lady and I thought that whatever the sari can be it always gives a kind of radiance and a touch of dignity to women.
It is amazing that it is done by only a single straight length of cloth and yet it offers so much of variety provided by the fabrics, designs and colours.

Shopping at Nai Sadak

 

Nai Sadak market is an amazing market in the center of Varanasi (Benaras) where most of the Muslims shopkeepers sell any kind of fabrics.
I always enjoy going there not only for some inspiration that I find for my work but also because this place allows my mind to travel with its fantastic touch of Orientalism.
It is a timeless bazaar where most of the people wear traditional garments, where so many colours, music and scents are mixing. 
This picture was shot there, those ladies who must belong to the same family were happy to find what they were looking for.
Their happiness attracted my camera.
Nai Sadak means “New Road”.

A Fish Bone Shaped Life

 

“Je veux une vie en forme d’arête (I want a fish bone shaped life)
Sur une assiette bleue (Lying on a blue plate)
Je veux une vie en forme de chose (I want a thingamajig shaped life)
Au fond d’un machin tout seul (In the deep bottom of a contraption)
Je veux une vie en forme de sable dans des mains (A hands-filled-with-sand shaped life)
En forme de pain vert ou de cruche (In form of green loaf or jug)
En forme de savate molle (In form of slabby slipper)
En forme de faridondaine (In form of faridondaine)
De ramoneur ou de lilas (Of chimney sweep or lilac)
De terre pleine de cailloux (Of ground filled with stones)
De coiffeur sauvage ou d’édredon fou (Of wild hairdresser Or besotted eiderdown)
Je veux une vie en forme de toi (I want a life in form of you)
Et je l’ai, mais ça ne me suffit pas encore (And I’ve got it, but it is still not enough)
Je ne suis jamais content (I’m never happy.)”
(“Je veux une vie en forme d’arrête” by Boris Vian, French writer, poet and musician,1920–1959)

Last afternoon I was walking along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras) as I wanted to cross the city.
On the way I took a few pictures, I can’t really explain why this poem by Boris Vian came to my mind, I guess I made an analogy with all those lines and colors or maybe there was something which unconsciously connected me to the surrealistic process by which the poet reformed existing patterns…

Behind the Scenes

 

“Is it your face
that adorns the garden?
Is it your fragrance
that intoxicates this garden?
Is it your spirit
that has made this brook
a river of wine?

Hundreds have looked for you
and died searching
in this garden
where you hide behind the scenes.

But this pain is not for those
who come as lovers.
You are easy to find here.
You are in the breeze
and in this river of wine.”

(Behind the Scenes, a Persian poem by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – 1207–1273)

I took this picture of my friend Juliette Sushila last Sunday as we were walking on the ghats along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
It was one of the last summer days even though it was November.
That day she left for Paris and a kind of winter monsoon came.

Among several things my friend is running charity business with an hospital in the Indian state of Karnataka where she needs support.
www.donnonslavie.org/

Under the Skin

 

“I know you even under the skin”.
(Persius, Roman poet – Volterra, 34-62)

It was last Sunday at Lal ghat in Varanasi (Benaras), this young man took a bath in the holy waters of the Ganges and washed himself.
After that he treated several parts of his body with pressure, mostly his joints.
He used Ayurveda which is a natural health care system that incorporates massage.

An Ocean of Meanings

 

“Rise up nimbly and go on your strange journey to the ocean of meanings.”
(Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and mystic, 1207–1273)

This was shot last Sunday at Prayag ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras).
I believe that it was the last very hot day of the year here and many people came to river in order to find a way to feel fresh.
This woman was pouring the holy water on her, I took several pictures as the colours were coming so well.

This world of perfumes and color

 

“The drum of the realization of the promise is beating, 
we are sweeping the road to the sky. 
Your joy is here today, what remains for tomorrow? 
The armies of the day have chased the army of the night, 
Heaven and earth are filled with purity and light. 
Oh! joy for he who has escaped from this world of perfumes and color! 
For beyond these colors and these perfumes, these are other colors in the heart and the soul. 
Oh! joy for this soul and this heart who have escaped the earth of water and clay, 
Although this water and this clay contain the hearth of the philosophical stone.”
(“Mystic Odes” by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Balkhi, known as Jelaluddin Rumi – Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and mystic, 1207–1273)

This was shot near Gai Ghat along the Ganges in Varanasi (Benaras) where this man has been washing his laundry.
He was streching his clothes under the sun.
It was two days ago, I thought that it was uncommon to have such an heat in November.