There were many people around me while I was taking the photographs. This old man was standing aside, and watching me. Suddenly I saw him, and realized his remarkable face. I went to him, asking his permission for photographing. He smiled, I lifted the camera when he asked for pause and carefully twiddled his precious, his mustache.
May well be you say that this picture is not too unique, but still is very close to me. First of all I love the texture of his skin. Secondly, I can recall how well cared, and almost unnaturally dark black hair he had. Actually, I am still amazed how most of these people can be so neat, while living literarily on the pure ground in the slums. Last but not least, I am touched by his distant mood. It carries so much...
I was sitting on the road-shoulder during twilight. This old lady and her friend was sitting by me, just a few meters away. I saw her breathtaking face, with decades of experiences engraved in the flesh. I felt a bit shy that night, so, at first I just started to gradually slip closer to her, while just playing with my camera. When I felt that she got used to my presence, I asked her permission with my eyes, and take this shot. The next one (Gossip) is about the same model.
Technically this is not a high quality photo, but emotionally very close to me; It is my very first picture in India. Brunch of people were working, making bricks by hand. Whole families were working there, every member , from the youngest to the oldest one, having its own task. I was very excited when approaching them, because I did not know how people would react here for the camera. I was so nervous that even mis-measured the light, so the photo turned out to be overexposed. And then I got this present: his smile. He was happily accepting me and the camera, just as his father. This is where all my Indian photography story started... I remember them with good heart.