Tabo boasts of one of the oldest monasteries in Spiti. It is made of mud and is one of the simplest buildings there. This Gompa in the vicinity is a newer construction and attracts many devotees
The setting sun seems to create the most beautiful colors and the formation of clouds adds to the beauty of the entire evening in Sarahan, Himachal Pradesh. The guest house is a nicely located building, it overlooks the valley and has a quaint lawn where one can sip tea and watch a another day come to an end….and be grateful for ones own existence 🙂
I have a sepia tinted photograph of myself as a little baby sitting on my mother`s lap. It is stuck on the inside wall of my cupboard, its edges curling with the burden of the many decades that it has witnessed. It is the first thing I see when I open my cupboard to select my outfit for the day. I peer into the baby’s face to observe if it has any resemblance to the woman that it has now become. Similarly, I look into my young mothers beautiful face to capture what she has carried forward from her youth. The emotion that fills my heart is quite powerful. It is a mix of nostalgia, gratitude and love. The photograph reasserts to me how many years my mother nourished my body and soul and made me the person I am. It is not something that should ever be forgotten. The presence of the photograph in my cupboard helps me reprioritises my goals in life. It shows me the relentless motion of time and what all it changes in its wake. It also teaches me patience…patience to hold my tongue when my mother slows her speech to choose the right word. Wisdom to tame my impatient hands as she works at her pace to finish a job…My mindbecomes clearer, as I mull over what to wear..
Alongside this photograph is one of my fathers, who, in passing away in his forties, remained frozen in all the vitality of youth, smiling his beautiful smile, he looks at me benevolently. I remember so many things about him because of that one photograph. His absence feels less stark, his face not a hazy memory but a clear picture. I remember his love for me and meticulous dressing, his penchant for always being on time, his love for a good joke and a hearty laugh…in his own silent way he still guides me..
The others who form this open album on the side of my cupboard are my immediate and extended family. In looking at their photos I remember to thank God for their presence in my life. I smile at the monkey face my son used to enjoy making and the certain angle my daughter always prefers when being clicked….the photograph of my brothers with their arms protectively around me shows me that the most precious thing in my cupboard is also the most intangible….
I have a studio in the heart of a place called Shahpurjat. It’s a quaint village famous for high end boutiques, selling premier bridal wear. The wedding trousseau market in India is worth billions, I hear. And it is something I can easily believe. As I reach my studio for a day amongst paint and music, from my balcony I see fancy cars off load well – heeled customers for a day at the village. All in search of the one outfit that will elevate their normal beauty to that of the extraordinary 🙂