As a Kid I Thought Odisha is Just About Coasts | A Photostory
When the text books were colorful and all about pictures, I thought Odisha is all about coasts and fisherman. I thought of it as a state where the language is much similar to my own mother tongue in Assamese but the culture and tradition completely different. 2 years of living in Odisha had made me rethink about all that I believed.
I had seen images so beautiful I thought I would never put the camera down. So many stories slowly unfolded; people with unique smiles, villages with history and mountains that hold beauty.
I had seen images so beautiful I thought I would never put the camera down. So many stories slowly unfolded; people with unique smiles, villages with history and mountains that hold beauty.
In the 2 years I have been here, I have climbed mountains countless. I have seen the tress change colors with season. The forest like a canvas of mixed hues.
I have climbed mountains to reach villages, to meet people they say indigenous. I have met the Shouras of Gajapati. I have drunk their Khajuri (Toddi), I have eaten their food, listened to their songs and seen their rituals.
In Kalahandi, especially in the tribal belts, I had seen people with happy faces and no worries even with the little comfort we don’t even count often. I have seen people with smiles that looked authentic. I have seen what trusts look like in reality; when a mother gives away the newborn in the hands of someone they have seen before.
The nights have given me the sight of beautiful milky way,
and even, the frightening sight of a mountain on fire.
I have stayed in villages where a normal phone call is seems too exotic, for these are the villages that the e-life is too slow to reach. Life there is still too fast for a halt. The struggles are not the same as yours and mine.
I have been stuck in traffic jam that is unique.
In villages, so remote to travel, I have found educated people and villages where not a single child is left behind.
I had seen kids build beautiful and tiny boats as a tradition of paying tribute to the fisherman and traders of the past.
I had seen cyclone destroy homes; I have seen people rebuild everything. I have seen how hard they worked.
There are mountains where Cashew grows and I have had the chance of tasting the Cashew apple. ‘Lanka-Ambo’ they call it which literally translate to ‘Chilly-Mango’.
The Mahendragiri range as it is known, the highest peak of Odisha, I have had bike-ride through it when the clouds appeared below me.
Now as I look back into my gallery, I wonder when would I be photographing the beaches. The beaches are there and people visit them everyday in thousands. But, as a photographer I am yet to do so. I believe the beauty these hills, the tress, the people and their unique practices share have been mouthful for me.
I have seen and experienced all of these not as a photographer but as a person. I have been there and spent time patiently, not expecting frames to fall in front of my eyes.
For anybody on a 1 week trip to Odisha, these all might be a long-shot ( or more) to be seen.
Yes, that makes me happy and proud.
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