An Indian Home

Thought I'd perhaps interupt the death theme of Varanasi to bring you an image of family life from Pushkar. I popped in To see my friend Raju and ended up staying a week...its so hard to leave! No bathroom, so in the morning I accompany the women of the family to the freezing bathing ghats where we all wash in our salwar kameez or sari (i don't tend to attempt the sari apart from on special occasions...had a few unwinding disasters which have resulted in revealing the petticoat or underskirt (a ghastly social faux pas) in public which has caused hilarity among the village girls and gypsies and the hasty attentions of my hosts...) anyway yes they manage to wash themselves from head to toe and change into fresh clothes (yesterdays clothes are worn to the ghat) without revealing an inch of flesh. The naughty gypsy girls strut up and down bare breasted and the Brahmin ladies all tut furiously. Its a completely female environment though, and fiercely guarded from naughty photographers.

 

Anyway here, we are preparing food for Diwali. Or rather they are and im hopping around taking photos and making shamefully stiff chapattis which are quietly dispensed with when they think I'm not looking.

But I'm always looking.I'm a photographer.

 

Done