Last month, we went for a long due pilgrimage at hubby’s native in Gujarat. It was a hot day and we were getting weary by the scorching heat; irritated and hungry, searching for a decent place for lunch that seemed like impossible dream. Only respite was view from the car; tiny little hamlets here and there, a pond or two with buffalos enjoying blissful siesta with sage like calm, fresh crops in the fields and birds!
The drive was getting
too long and I was on verge of dozing off when I spotted this group of
beautiful women; unskilled labourers heading for their work unperturbed by the ruthless
Sun. I asked the driver to stop the car a few meters ahead and waited for this
group to arrive. My first few shots were candid but the moment they noticed me
with the big camera, they were intimidated and that’s when I introduced myself
in their language, Gujarati. It helped to break ice.
Between the obviously
irritated calls from my hubby and son and my fervent pleading to them to
tolerate my madness, I was granted a few minutes. The ladies were in hurry to
reach their work so I had to walk (run) with them as we interacted.
These women do “maatikaam”
on construction sites. Conferred upon by the responsibilities of looking after
children, home and work, they are subjected to struggle between long work hours,
poor pay, dangerous and unsanitary conditions.
They were gentle in
conversation yet feisty, their dusty hands and feet; evidence of hardship they
put up with everyday and their genuine loud laughter, high pitched clamour stole
piece of my heart!
Each
lady from the group posed willingly albeit pleasantly surprised that an
educated “madam” should be interested in their " dirty clothes and life in general! For those few moments of
my interaction with them, world ceased to exist for me. I instantly fell in love with their inner beauty that
seeks no
understanding and needs no definition in a confining language!
I’m
not sure if I could capture their beauty and elegance in folds and layers of
their stunning attires. These barely literate women, their sense of style and beautiful
attires floored me! The sarees they wear are more like “dupattas” for urban
women, the combination of their clothes, simply mind blowing and the elan with
which they carry themselves can give run to any professional stylist and model
run for her money. For me, women like them are true fashionistas!
Have
you ever experienced unfiltered beauty and love that catches you completely off
guard and you are so moved by sheer joy that makes your eyes brim with tears?
I
returned to the car after interacting with these lovely ladies, overwhelmed by sheer
joy of my encounter with raw, genuine souls. It felt like having experienced yet
another pilgrimage!
