#bombay
Why do hoodies always have names like ‘STANFORD’ or ‘CHICAGO’ on them? Why not something like ‘MUMBAI’?
BOMBAE
Mumbai. Indie 2005. Niewiele zapisków z tych dni. Przyleciałem przez Moskwę 30 grudnia 2004 roku i zamieszkałem w dzielnicy Bandra u Kamili i Rafała, który tam wtedy mieszkali. Trochę mi się ciężko to ogląda i pisze bo Rafał już nie żyje, a pewnie bym tam nie poleciał gdyby nie oni. W każdym razie był to dobry czas eksploracji niesamowitych miejsc w tym przerażającym mieście molochu.
Wrzucam 10tkę z niewielu zdjęć jakie tam zrobiłem, mam wrażenie, że sporo zdjęć wyrzuciłem już podczas podróży. Wtedy wyjechałem na ponad rok z PL - to miał być wyjazd dookoła świata z planem pracowania w Nowej Zelandii albo w Australii, ewentualnie w USA. Plany się pokrzyżowały w Kambodży, kiedy zostałem okradziony z paszportu i części sprzętu. Musiałem wtedy wrócić na jeden miesiąc do Polski.
Jak pewnie wcześniej wspominałem, używałem wtedy nikona d70 z kitowym szkłem - chyba lepszych aparatów wtedy nie było, albo inaczej nie miałem takiego hajsu, aby inwestować w mega drogie aparaty i obiektywy - wszystko poszło w ten bardzo długi trip. I teraz pomimo, że zdjęcia mają tylko 6mpx ale wciąż nadają się do druku (opublikowałem zdjęcie z Wietnamu i bardzo dobrze na rozkładówce w @vogue.polska to wyglądało).
Teraz z moją wiedzą i możliwościami, jakie daje sieć, ze sprzętem jaki można mieć, aby kręcić w drodze - pewnie moja podróż wyglądałaby inaczej. Z drugiej strony robiąc za “program podróżniczy” będąc w drodze traci się kawałek siebie, traci się ten moment, kiedy jest się w drodze samemu, ma się czas na myślenie. No i ten brak kontaktu natychmiastowego był bezcenny. Nie było smartfonów - internet był kafejkach no i czasem przez wifi. Nie chciałbym wyjść na dziada który pierdoli, że “przed wojną było lepiej” albo “za moich czasów”, ale to jednak jest coś co już nie wróci.
#mumbai #india #roadtrip #asia #southasia #bombay
Last Photo - Rafał Sagan 1979-2018. RIP (w: Mumbai, Maharashtra)
https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ3S52wn9pe/?igshid=1ccpginudat0q
Post link
Nothing like family.
“ITS ALIVE!” #catsofinstagram #mysterytheblackcat #bombay #blackcat #tigger #tiggypoo #orangetabby
https://www.instagram.com/p/CCyiaPEJ5H5/?igshid=u1h1mnnv04te
Days have passed, so have months.
At some point, during that time, my mind has been a blank piece of sheet, and my thoughts flowing like the ink of a broken pen.
I, and many here and there - probably, felt lost and lonely.
But everything is ephemeral, even these temporary feelings, that keep going and knocking back on my door, sometimes.
Sometimes, coming inside like a storm we try to protect ourselves from,
sometimes we decide to let them in, even welcoming with a smile, curious to learn more.
Some people call it growth, some healing, or just life.
Isn’t that life just a perpetual stream of changes and adaptations, to circumstances, people, and ourselves anyway.
Self portrait in Mumbai. May 2020
Flowing thoughts : you knew I missed you Bombay, didn’t you? (part II)
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But It has been a month now, since life seems to be on pause. Days and week go on, and we have lost the sense of time. From laziness to anger, frustration and solitude, it has been a month now, since we all are stuck, encaged like birds. Encaged at home, in a room, in some thoughts and in our minds. We all are sitting calm like bombs, patiently waiting to taste life again. A month now, we are asked to stay away from each other, for the sake of the humanity. I feel split between my feelings. Sometimes I want to be left alone, sometimes I crave for human interaction. I feel caught by some nostalgia and reverie.
We all, here, care and worry for our loved ones. We pour out our hearts, sometimes. We make plans for the moment our wings won’t be clipped anymore. When we would enjoy the tiniest things we never thought we would miss. We do realise that we took so many things for granted. Probably, we will apprieciate things differently, value people’s company more, probably.
We tend to learn again to enjoy the simpliest things we are allowed to and that surround us. Far from the hustle and bustle. Old books smells, that breeze in your hair while walking to the grocery, the music - the companion to your solitude, that has been a remedy to your eventual loneliness. Don’t you enjoy, through that window, seeing the sun going down letting the moon and stars looking upon us at night. Don’t you find some peace to your restlessness?
Ph : Shuvangi S.C
Flowing thoughts : you knew I missed you Bombay, didn’t you? (Part I)
I carried my stubborness and some wishes in my bag, on my way back to Bombay. Some places I wanted to go back to, memories I wanted to relive. Some faces I wanted to see again, some laughers I wanted to hear once more. Eager to explore around, curious about the new souls that will cross my path.
By the time I landed, I already had that feeling, as usual, the feeling of being Home. From shopping bindis and jhumke, to the walks and sunsets at Juhu, the conversations with the aunties and the drives with that one. The horns of the rikshaws in the traffic jam, the smell of the food stalls, the carefree crowd and the kids playing in the streets. And with that smile, on my face, witnessing the scene. Nevertheless, you knew I missed you Bombay, didn’t you?
Bombay | April 20’
Ig : @miraakle_
I will meet you there,
When the birds won’t be encaged anymore,
When the sun will go down,
At the dusk.
there is
that feeling of heaviness,
like drowing in a river of frustration.
but at some point,
right now,
doesn’t life seems to be on pause.
far from the hustle and bustle,
finding in old books smell, the little walks you are allowed to have, seeing birds flying out in the sky, in that sunray kissing the face and the moon giving us company at night,
some peace to your restlessness?
“You know didi, at home, everyone likes It when I sing those old hindi songs, especially my father after having worked hard the whole day. He forgets all the tiredness, and I can see the smile and pride on his face. That is why I want to be a singer. For all the other drivers to listen to me in their car while working, and feel happy.”
Story telling, mumbai 2020.
Mumbai, may 2020.
An evening during the lockdown.
Ig @miraakle_
Mumbai, may 2020.
Ig : miraakle_
Some moments from Mumbai I will always cherish, are those spent with these kids.
Sitting with them and talking, playing, seeing them being nasty around or just fighting, before they go back to work, to sell what they have – a pen, a packet of tissues, earings. I remember them telling me about their favorite hindi movies. Viraj’s love for chocolate, and burgers. Veer’s favorite subjects at school, maths or sciences. Radhika wanting to be a teacher when she grows up. Them working hard here when they can, to help their family. I remember their stories, of some people they came across, their inhumanity and cruelty, that just made my blood boil.
Life, at times, gives you more than what you expect, and sometimes, just takes away what is needed. Anything that has a value to you, or just something you have a right on. I believe as a child, you have the right to grow up in a healthy and safe environment, surrounded by loving and supportive ones. Life owes you innocence and carefreeness, untainted of burdensome responsibilities or atrocities. What is, sometimes, just taken away, way too early, reflected by worry lines on the forehead.
But everytime we would meet, just seeing them laugh was a good source of oxytocin. Astonished by their maturity, softness and purity. How they would fight with each other to share their juice or food with me or “Didi we won’t have”. Just big hearts and bright smiles.
Zara aana
yahan mere pass,
beth te hain.
Tum aur main
aur do cup chai.
Kuch kahaniyan sunaungi,
kuch tumhari sunungi.
Zara aana
yahan mere pass,
Guzarte hain kuch paal.
