cows, cars, dogs and men live, breath and shit on the bumpy, brave streets of OLD DELHI.
a little boy, no older than six but more street wise than sixty, hangs onto the sleeve of my shirt as he asks - with his much rehearesed but irresistible stare - for a bit of cash.
a rickshaw driver who although the 100+ kilos he loads never seems to tire or sweat but rather is "happy if we're happy", drives us to lunch.
a bunch of trwnty year olds who adamantly demand for a photo with us.
a thin, shaky teenage girl who poses beside me for a mobile shot.
an old trickster who charges 200 rupees to let us into the Jama Masjid at prayer time...in an hour...in ten minutes....just go now!
the smell is intense but the heat is stronger. the poverty is widespread but the filth is persistent.
i have never captured this much attention - even in the days when as a child i most seeked it.
status diversity floats at the surface, but caste differences are drowned by the roars of car, truck and tuc-tuc horns.
a horn for hello, a horn for budge, a horn for im bigger, a horn for im turning left.
big flies, small flies, waterflies and shit flies - all kinds of flies patrol foodstuffs and hair like restless policemen and over-worked hairdressers.
the Red Fort has huge grounds but tiny living quarters for a Mughal prince!
the Jama Masjid; imposing, enthralling but somewhat oppressing.
the Jain bird hospital - simply genius.
butter chicken is great!
sikh philosophy - must be looked into.
people sleep on the streets. but not in corners or doorwats - simly everywhere!! a man of about seventy with a long white beard and just a cloth on his crotch lay on the hot pavement of a busy road - oblivious, or perhaps indifferent - to the swarm of trampling people who pass beside, behind and above his head.
it's busy and packed and scary. as scary as it gets. you're not just worrying about your bag and camera and toes (and those of others) but your worry lies in the eyes of the hungry infant, the tuberculosised grandfather and the starved, emaciated horse pulling a much too heavy cart.
but it's colourful, smelly, chaotic and alive, like an anthill or a penguin's breeding ground. everyone is out there looking for something.
scary, awesome and unforgettable.
