All my dreams of posting daily are proven to be just that; dreams. The net was intolerably slow in New Delhi, non-exsitant in Varanasi and once we arrived to Haridwar and the Kumbh Mela we found that the government internet connection at the hotel has been blocked for security reasons. I am now posting this after my return to New Delhi (at that intolerably slow connection). For me, the days in Varanasi were a paradox. The colors I found in Delhi where amplified many times over in Varanasi. The city is, of course considered a holy city by Hindus. Many elderly people come to the city to live out their last days and be cremated on the banks of the once beautiful Ganga or Ganges. The faces of the masses are as diverse as India herself. It is a photographers dream. But it is not what I expected.
The placid, but mighty Ganges is now blackish brown and it’s banks are littered with plastic bags and the bones of the devoted. The ghats are painted with hoardings that advertise places like the Elvis Guest House. Hippies graffiti the ancient walls with advertisements for local eats and yoga classes. But don’t get me wrong, in all of this, you can find the authentic. Like any place that attracts millions of tourist a year, you have two choices. The first is to focus. Put “blinders” on. Look past the graffitied walls and see what is below or beside it. The other option is to get off the beaten path and go look for “real” life, away from the plastic pin wheels and postcards. Go into the back alleys and you will be rewarded with people living their life away from the chaos of tourism. But to be honest, either way Varanasi if full of images and will never fail to reward the photographer with rich colorful photographs.
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