Living in and out of reality as I chase my dreams sky high.

Saturday, 21 June 2014

The Village Part 3: A look at the Saturday Bazaar

The Saturday Bazaar is crazy sight. There are tons of people walking around trying to get their hands on all the goods that have come from nearby villages. People put up tents to sell bangles, juice, fish, and pretty much anything that people are willing to buy. I was overwhelmed with the colours, the smells and tastes. I still can't pinpoint what it was that I enjoyed the most.I supposed maybe it was the thrill of experiencing a different society. 

Sugar cane juice to beat the heat!

Giving it a try.

Yup it definately did it for me!

More stalls selling vegetables...

All the goods I ended up buying! 

So that was pretty much it. An exciting day at the Saturday Bazaar which was both fulfilling and satisfying. 

Thursday, 5 June 2014

The Village Part 2: Feasting on Mangoes

The Alphonso Mangoes are known as the King of all mangoes in India, and lucky for me they come right from my mother's village, and honest to God there isn't a mango tastier than this. I was extremely lucky that after 13 years I was able to go come to the Village during the mango season, and handpick the mangoes.

 First it was a short hike up the mountain. 

Once we found our trees we began to pick our mangoes. 

Musing over all the mangoes I hand picked!

 Even managed to find a riped one, and I couldn't resist but take a bite.
 The best way to eat any mango is to bite of the top and suck on it. Honestly there is no better way, but you have to watch out for the stains because those aren't so sweet!
During the mango hunt we even found some black Jamun, they signify that rain is near. It was honestly a double treat!

So there it is my crate of hand picked mangoes! My grandmother pickled a few of them, and left the rest to enjoy just as they should be. 

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

The Village: Walking into my mother's stories

Coming to the village was like taking a step into my mother's stories. All of a sudden the characters she spoke of in her stories came alive, and were real people I was meeting. The streets and the marketplaces she had described were ditto to what I was experiencing. There was a very weird strange but familiar aura about this place, that even after 13 years later it felt like it was home. The fresh air, and the cool breeze was an indulgence that was not available to me in the city. It was now after making this long journey back to my mother's childhood home I realised just why my mother loved this place so much. It was now that I finally understood why my grandfather cherished this place so much, and it was now that I would discover his dream, and the people keeping it alive.

Look through the village and the people that reside in it!

And finally my mother's childhood home. The house where I spent most holidays till the age of six. A house that now symbolised every bit of him that I remember. A house that even 13 years later felt like home. 

Mumbai being my birthplace seems like a stranger, but the village even after the absence of 13 years feels like home. Coming to the village I was looking for that voice I lost, for that dream I did not have the courage to pursue anymore, but after coming here I saw a new dream, a dream that my grandfather left behind. A dream that many of the people photographed above are striving to protect, and I supposed that is the one dream that I now have to protect. The Village and the people of the village are my grandfather's dream, and to see that this village and its people are not abandoned is now my dream. 

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