Musings of a Wanderer

Like everyone else, the Pandemic presented me with an opportunity to see myself in a new light. Armed with little else but my camera, I set out solo to explore both familiar and unseen locations. This time I had two luxuries – time, and no definite agenda. 

I saturated my senses in the experiences completely before my photographer instincts could take over. Sikkim, Jaipur, (South) Calcutta, (Old) Delhi, Benaras, Bandipur, Mysore and lastly remote villages in Himachal Pradesh leading to Buran Ghati Pass at 15k feet, showed me aspects of living and perceiving in small town India that a cocooned corporate life had isolated me from this far. I found myself riveted by how chaotic and charmed everything seemed. 

Within that chaos, however, there lay a strong rootedness where protocols were followed, guests were celebrated as was sharing resources. There was an intimate and a symbiotic relationship with nature which the common metro dweller has lost.

As I continued to experiment with my lens, marvelling at how hugely technology upgrades had impacted the mobile phone camera, I was enthralled at the ease with which the ‘gully boys’ operated the phones and used applications. From Uber to home deliveries, small towns had it all! 

The bridging of the divide between the rich and the poor, caste and class, was starkly apparent.

This real India was reeling under so much more than our privileged existences could endure. Yet their innate ‘rhythm of life’ and ability to ‘just do it’ could teach a thing or two to the corporate aspirant.