India

Unplaceable smells, unboxable colors, beings. Indescribable actions, untraceable sounds. Chaos in manifestation. I remember when he asked me what I was thinking of. His eyes as black as his silver lined, dirt covered dress. We observed the burning body of Ghats in Varanasi, and saw naked staring eyes filled with memories from the past, while the river lost gold was catching the last sun rays of that day. Whilst the wind brought the smell of the water closer to us, he lay his hand on the broken skull next to him. Nothing, I replied. He smiled. For me, that was the beauty of India. Finding stillness in the Chaos. The fullness of the void.

Photographs by
Lia Baroni

Words by
Jeanne de Kroon