India. Varanasi. Yearly morning, sometime around 6 AM we were in the labyrinth of the narrow streets next to a crematorium for the poor people. I can’t describe the smell on those streets even at the relatively “fresh” time of the day. This whole scenery stroke me deeply. On the right, you can see the pile of orange plastic covers for the dead bodies. On the back ground you see a man searching through the fabrics which were used for the same purpose. I bet he is going to reuse those somehow(sell to the tourists?). It was difficult to see a small girl in the midst of that without compassion, however it’s a reality for most of Indians.
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I am a passionate observer who likes to collect the moments and the looks.
Yet this is a country where aid is received but only the wealthy seem to benefit.
Beautiful picture of a unique moment. Well done!
Powerful images that does not need a lengthy explanation. It would give any Westerner culture shock
Thank you for sharing this world with us
Wow! I was drawn to this photo by the beautiful colors. But am mesmerized by the powerful story behind it. I agree with Sherri–I can really appreciate my life here in America even more.
For me the most striking thing about India was the mixture of dirt, poverty with intense colour and decoration. This image captures the mood perfectly. Tony
Incredible and beautiful picture, until you read your powerful post and then you can’t see the beauty any more.
wow, this is a very powerful image. haunting in a way.
Intense.
Wow! At first glance, I thought that colorful pile was a heap of sari’s. OMG…then I clicked on your post to read all of it. Makes me appreciate my slice of America even more.
Life and death. Incredible image.