Friday, Dec. 15, 2006

I finish showering in the morning and find a note under my door. It is from Nirguna Mataji. “Please come to my apartment when you get the chance.”

I head over. She asks how everything has been going, if I am satisfied with my new room, what sort of photo opportunities I have been getting.

As we are speaking, I hear a rustling in her curtains. I have almost forgotten. She has a pet chipmunk. It climbs all over her front curtains and the lamp in the front window of her apartment, where it finds warmth. It came to her as a baby, when it had no fur and its eyes were still closed. She hopes to release it into the wild sometime soon.

We walk around the area near MVT. She shows me where a local bakery is, should I wish to get breakfast some mornings. As we are heading back, she tells me she wants to get some biscuits for the dogs that live in front of MVT. The typical lifespan of a dog in Vrindavan is four years.

There is one female dog in particular who has recently had puppies, her ribs are protruding through her fur. Another dog nearby has mange and is missing most of the fur on its back.

She buys the biscuits and puts them on the ground for the dogs. Prashant was right about the monkeys. No sooner have the biscuits hit the dirt than two primates swing down from their perch upon the MVT gate and start stuffing the biscuits in their mouths, two, three at a time. Nirguna Mataji grabs my monopod and starts swinging it at them. The scene is almost comical. They back off.

A nearby cow also takes interest in the food on the ground and moves in that direction. There are so many hungry animals here.

****

At noon, Prashant tells me that we can go to another ashram. A couple of men he knows will take us there. We zip off on his scooter down one of the bumpiest unpaved roads in Vrindavan. I inhale a lot of dust and hang on.

There are many widows here. But this place is nice. It is clean and smells of newly made incense. The widows are chanting, playing instruments and praying when we arrive. They are puzzled by my presence but continue. I have told Prashant to tell them that I want natural photos, so to ignore me if at all possible.

There is one widow here who is more than 100 years old. She walks on all fours, buttocks up in the air. Her skin is missing pigment in some areas. Somehow she ascends the stairs to her sleeping quarters, where I see her walking like this.

The light here is nice. I go inside the widows’ sleeping quarters. There beds are lined up in two rows, and each woman has about two feet of space on either side of the bed to call her own. There are various decorations around the beds, as well.

One woman here is sewing, another is sleeping, another is stringing beads. The natural light streams through the open door and highlights several of the widows in the room, and I sit and photograph them for about 30 minutes. There is one widow leaning through a window; another is perched on her bed. All stand out because of the light.

Soon Prashant tells me they are waiting for me to leave so they can eat lunch. I finish up, and we head downstairs. But they ask us to stay to eat.

We sit and are served a spicy dish, fried bread and a sweet mixture of rice, raisins and milk. One of the men there is surprised that I like this type of food. “Yes, I do,” I reply, smiling. But I hiccup. This is the only giveaway that I don’t eat Indian food on a regular basis.

****

There are evening classes at the school today. Prashant and I go up to the roof of the primary school, where kids are practicing karate. There is a belt inspection coming up. They are doing flips and throwing punches. The late-afternoon sun makes everyone’s faces glow, and it is a perfect time to shoot.

Prashant tells me that SMS kids are well known for their martial arts skills. A couple of the girls are gold medalists. A tough area produces tough kids.

****

Prashant takes me to the home of one of the girls I will be doing extended work on, Ratna. Her father has tuberculosis and sits feebly in the house, spitting occasionally. Her mother is gone. She cares for several siblings.

Prashant tells me that once, during rainy season, water flooded the family’s home and all of their belongings were floating. He had to help bail water out with a bucket. The stench was something he cannot describe.

When we arrive, Ratna is carrying a huge bowl of cow dung on her head. She and her sister take it up to the roof of her house and start kneading it into pies to dry and burn for fuel. I ascend to the roof ever so carefully to photograph.

I will come back here at different times to shoot and try to get an idea of how this family works. The sun is setting, and the light is not going to last much longer. Prashant has somewhere to take me.

****

We go to an area that overlooks the riverbank. I cannot do the beauty justice in my description. The sun is setting over the water, producing a myriad of pastel colors. A boat passes by, silhouetted in the fading light. I take a couple of photos, then sit to enjoy the peace here.

Below, people are lighting candles and sending them down the river in little floating cups. Prashant tells me each candle represents a wish.

****

A final note for today: I think I am getting used to the spicy food here. I can’t eat a pizza at MVT without sprinkling some hot pepper sauce on top.