Archive for April, 2014

The Opium Drinkers of Jodhpur, Rajasthan

The Opium Drinkers of Jodhpur, Rajasthan

Doda is the last derivative of the opium plant. Its bits of straw and dust and this is what they sell at the government shops. It’s less pure and therefore less lethal than pure opium but just as addictive. The addicts ground the dry straw to powder. They mix it with water and filter it through a piece of cloth several times. The tea-colored liquid, which is odorless and tasteless, is then drunk by the glassfuls.


Jim Hubbard: “Photojournalism has Ended”

Jim Hubbard: “Photojournalism has Ended”

It (photojournalism) is nothing but superficial. You don’t get to know anybody. Not their struggles or their pain. Someone has been shot or killed and you come in and photograph those who are mourning the loss. You don’t get to know them or anything. You are just looking for a pictures of them crying. I wanted to understand people.”, he says.


Rent a Womb? The Baby Factory in Gujarat.

Rent a Womb? The Baby Factory in Gujarat.

However for the childless around the world, Anand is just a pit stop on their dream to acquire a child. Each year hundreds of them flock here from as many as 34 countries, winding their way through the traffic chocked, dusty by lanes to reach Akanksha Infertility Clinic- the hospital that churns out an average of one baby a day.

But Anand is also the last hope for women who have none. Empty stomached but fertile wombed they come here from all across Gujarat offering their womb for rent.


Gujarat- Its Smelly, Its Dusty , Its Poor. Its India.

Gujarat- Its Smelly, Its Dusty , Its Poor.  Its India.

Luckily, I had the opportunity to make road journeys across this vibrant state twice in the last one year to see for myself and rejoice. Truth be told, at first I did feel that same tug –a mixture of inferiority and expectancy – you feel when you fly to any Western country from India.

But away from the steel and glass, in an old part of Ahmedabad, where I went walking the next day, I got the same chocking feeling you get in any Indian city where filth and noise overwhelms you and sweaty smelly men buffet you about in the milling crowds.