I walked passed her everyday, noticing her sitting there on her own, with a steel cup on her side, her tiny body covered with a blanket. Hiding from the cold. Eyes looking down at all those passing by, just hearing the footsteps and sounds of dropping coins.
At times she would sit facing the wall, just a quiet, small tiny figure, shadowing herself from the sun.
I knew I wanted to talk to her, to know her, to capture her image, but it wasn’t the right time, at times I would not have my camera with me or at times I’m rushing by, in my own thoughts. What a beautiful aged human, I thought to myself each time I saw her. That thought soon disappeared as I got busy with my life here.
Then after weeks of being here in a small mountain town called Lakshman Jhula in Rishikesh, I took a walk with my camera, it was my first time trying to photograph some scenes here. It felt right. I walked pass the same streets a hundred times, watching the same emerald river flowing, looking at the same shops selling bags and clothes, dogs who came to say hello, the smell of the same chai I regularly have and the same cow I fed before. But she was not in my thoughts, I have forgotten about her.
As I turned up to a street corner. There she was, I walked pass her again, but this time something felt different, I smiled at myself. The sun was setting, the street was quiet, the leaves were glowing with orange light, I had my camera with me and she was wearing the most beautiful purple I ever saw. This was it. I immediately stopped after taking a few steps, without a word, passed my bag and jacket to a friend and went to her.
“What do you do here everyday?”
“Nothing, I just sit here. I have nowhere else to be.”
“Where did you come from?”
“From the mountains, I’m a wanderer, I have no family or children now, so I come here with others. I’m a brahmachari.” she whispered.
“So where do you live then?”
“Nowhere, I’m just here, I don’t have that many years left, so I come sit here, hope others will feed me, give me some chai or loose change. All I need is some food and a place to sleep. Till it’s my time to go.”
I asked her for a picture, she said no. I smiled, held her hand and asked again. She nodded.
(Rishikesh, India)
Updated 17th March – She passed away peacefully a few weeks after this picture was taken, locals performed a cremation ceremony for her. This may be one of the only images of her. Share her life.
via the project Ride Of Lights
