Some things aren’t meant to be photographed. Some because you are careening through a turbulent sea of autos and rickshaws and buses, and to take your focus off for a second risks you of being run over. So you don’t.
And some because you can’t. The human experience is too much. And it would be inhumane to capture the filth, the limblessness, the disease, the blindness, the begging, the shreds of garments.
The tattered souls.
All this depravity
Gathered around a temple of the violent goddess, Kali.
Her shrine, shrouded by a red-light district, offers an incense
Of decay and blood and fear –
The numb of hopelessness.