Steal Your Soul

Mysore, India, 2009

Emotions are ever present in India, they appear without censorship on peoples’ faces, last a very short time, then disappear to leave place to a present that ever flows without interruptions. I don’t need to search for images here, they come one after the other, with new human configurations and expressions. The river of people seems to follow a fixed pattern: they come, buy a cigarette, sit on a bench with a cup of chai and enjoy both. A few minutes of relax, they don’t talk to anyone, then they go away.

The noise from the boiler is constant and almost like a roar; from time to time it stops, and it’s possible to hear again the sounds from the street. Customers are of every kind, a transexual comes in and asks me how I do. A cell phone rings and the owner stops his prayer.