Street Rhythm in Mysore: The Maharaja’s Birthday

Getting to a city tired and sleepy, feet dragging, grabbing a morning chai, no points of reference… Eyes open, bust station, wow! No points of reference, nothing…The eyebrows are heavy and the city is a busy, grey, no contrasting normality. Mysore is moderately frantic, moderately colorful and busy… until a certain extent. Sipping the chai, speaking to my buttons, trying to solve IT problems and such, trying to place myself… Thoughts and time drag, swung by the tedious regular honking of the Indian traffic tradition. That’s when it hit me… The first time was just a whisper. It became a rattle and grew, all bold and intense. It became noise and defined itself into rhythm. This raw, untamed rhythm that invaded the once monotone arteries. Then it gathered with color. I remember jumping outside and spiked by that spectacle in front of me, I just dove… There was a crowd outside, chanting and dancing frantically, like hyperactives in New Orleans. Looking around me, there were colorful people in drag, clumsy giant puppets, that grooved in a ruminating, slow groove and other shy voyeurs… Took my camera, and dove. I bring you the result. A stranger walks into town and the city flash mobs him. That’s how I felt. I didn’t resist, went with the flow and danced the steps the drums taught me. It was the Maharaja’s birthday, they told me. Well, congratulations Maharaja, I think I’ll just enjoy your surprise…







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Searching Temples, Finding the Country

Eighteen Kilometres… Let your feet tell you the way. Such a landscape deserves your thirst. Desert tinted temples, boulders and rocks, a semi desolate aura comes knocking at your eye sight… First impressions, always an eye feeder. Today I scrap the surface, trot the scenery and finding a little bit of the farming and luscious green covered fields. The simplicity of a smile at each corner, the big eyes of curiosity and the equal and respectful wave. In Hampi, if you look for the temples, you end up capturing a fragment of this frank and straightforward reality. I was missing the country already…














Eerie Hampi: Living the Surreal…

Hampi, Karnataka State. One of the strangest, ghostly towns I’ve ever visited. The town is located on an a World Heritage ruins, with temples and a devotional aura surrounding it. Massive boulders all around complete the scenery, giving it a sense of an ancient, kind of desolate soul. Eerie might be the right word, a total maze of rocks and temples where orientation can be a bit hard. In the centre of the sacred bazaar, people have been occupying the ruins, a situation that was put to an end with demolitions. Despite this, there’s still life, there’s still the busy toiling and every day hard work. How interesting it is, how people live in such an ancient place, in such a devotional one. What I bring you today is the profane, the everyday life of such a place. Framed by amazing natural beauty and holy temples…













Goa Miscellaneous Snaps: My Way to Say Goodbye…

Here’s a retrospective of my few last days in Goa… Choppy sea, gray skies, portuguese heritage and lovely people that crossed my paths. I’m sitting at a cafe, eating my chicken Xacuti writing these lines… How different is Goa from what I’ve seen in India so far… That shows how diverse this country really is.. like no other. Heading South once again, facing monsoon and living this special time for all Indian people… Not really afraid to get wet…











Panaji Takes Over the Streets: A different Sunday

I always wrote here how I love Sundays. And how I love tasting them in a different way. Either a Macau market, or a Melbourne park, Sunday is just a different day. How different? Well, today I woke up with the street noise at 9am. Normally the honks would’ve accomplished in making me open my right eye, but today what startled me was the absence of honking and car noise. What woke me up was the excitement in people’s voices, someone drumming in the distance and a girl singing right underneath my window. I look outside and what I see is not the same bustling road of yesterday. A colorful moving pattern floods it… People everywhere, of all ages claiming the street to themselves. It’s Sunday, no one works, so… why not? “Hey Mrs. let that little girl within come out and play! Hey Grandpa, put on your colorful shirt, yes the crazy hawaiian or Aztec one and grab your racket!” And that’s how I spent my Sunday morning, playing football with the kids, observing a lively cricket match and watching a street theatre play…