Act 1: We find the protagonist living in the comforts of her city abode. There is nothing that, that life does not fulfil. Materially and socially both, she finds herself in the situation many would kill to be in. It's the bane of the Generation Y cosmopolitan existence. She lives in the times where a sex video will circulate faster than a call for people to urgently donate blood. Who would not, in times like these have an existential crisis or two? But there is always that bottle of Belvedere to numb the pain before the 'fight or flight' response of the body inclines itself towards flight. Some days, just some days she wished she could get away from it all and find a way to explore the flip side of her existence.
Act 2: She clearly doesn't belong here. The rickshaw wala bhaiya passes her by in his ornate little ride not stopping to stare. The alienation comes from within. She walks a mile and observes the people of the sleepy town wide awake at an hour where most city folk are likely to be sound asleep in their satin sheets and down feather comforters. The shops smell of fresh ink on parchment as the freshly printed newspapers are unpacked and set up on the stands, ready to be sold. An old man stands at the corner, playing with his dog while observing the men at work. The more she explores, the more the feeling of alienation is driven away. She doesn’t belong there yet she finds comfort in little signs of life and humanity. The handiwork of her beautiful salmon coloured dress perfectly complement the colours and tassels of the ornate rickshaw. Little kids being rushed to school smelling of soap and sandalwood exhibit an enthusiasm to learn and explore, unmatched by most adults. The fresh stash of beetle leaves being washed and set out for business. The signs of art, beauty and debauchery continue to haunt her as she stands in a corner and lights one up, watching the town wake up and smell the coffee. We aren't much different, she realised. Life and death across the border remains suspiciously similar to her neck of the woods. The pink lip stood for her pop culture consumption from the city life. The orange lower lip epitomised her new found old rustic fixation that she was taking back. We aren't much different, she mused. Just that we all choose to live double lives.
The handmade lovelies like this dress from That's Thefft always bring out the best in me. Be it in setting the mood of the shoot or my short stories. Thank you for inspiring this one. Find their delicate pieces of apparel with the most stunning handiwork on Facebook and instagram also.
Photography and editing by the hugely talented Pretika Menon aka Jvack Toto
Dress: That's Thefft
Boots: Saint G Shoes
Bag: Marc Jacob