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

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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