Calcutta, a city of contradiction: life and death, poverty and luxury, victories and falls, joy and sorrow, love and hatred. This is the story of my life in this city that never seems to be defined.
People living on the streets, naked children (sometimes women and men), torned apart buildings, human horses, undescribable smells, never ending sounds, contrasts of the past and the present, an uncertain future, and so many things that at first sight are part of a perfect picturesque landscape that attracts the eye of the photographer. I was in love with Calcutta but true love was going to be soon be tested.
I was no tourist. I was not visitor but my purpose of being in Calcutta was to share life with the poorest of the poor. The more I realize my own poverty the more I was becoming the photograph rather than the photographer. I loved it and I hated at the same time. I learned and I unlearned so much of what I thought I had already figured out.
I still cannot find the words to describe my experience in Calcutta. Among the volunteers the concern of how to explain the experience in this city to their friends and relatives was very common. Life is on the streets. Multiple things are happening at the same time, which normally do not take place in the same area, such as people bathing, women washing cloths, people cooking and children taking care of their needs all in the same corner.
Life is on the streets. Literally. People sleep, eat, play, read, work, cook, and live life as an open book. If you stay indoors in a hotel or a museum you will surely miss what makes Calcutta the city of Joy.
