Many a traveler on the tourist trail leading from the Taj Mahal into the desert state of Rajasthan goes to the ‘pink’ city of Jaipur and then very often is headed for Pushkar, Udaipur or Jaisalmer further west.
What about the blue city of Jodhpur? What’s wrong with it? I often wondered. Is it not recommended enough by guidebooks like the ‘lonely plant’? are people really rushing their way through this most beautiful part of india? it is probably a combination and it’s a pity anyway, i would say. More than once people told me they arrived in the morning and then take the train in the evening again. Those are the moments I praise myself for having all the time in the world (let’s not talk about the money)
Contrary to Jaipur everything is in walking distance here and condensed around and under the Mehrangarh fort. It was easy to spend two weeks in this gorgeous atmosphere spinning between the blue houses, wandering around the tiny streets, photographing ‘the guard’ at the fort (among many other characters I stumbled upon in the alleys) and going to Ramesh (‘a real Bombay barber’) for my regular shave and face massage. (watch the video at the end)
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‘the golden girl’
‘the bush at the fort’ & ‘the guard at the fort’
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As I was roaming the streets of Jodhpur, the blue city in Rajasthan, soaking in a myriad of impressions on the way , suddenly a golden girl appeared right in front of me at the doorstep. Around her, the remains of Holi, the festival of colors -which took place the day before- were still visible in pink. There she stood, frozen in time, piercing my lens.
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Ramesh entertains a funny mix of westerners and locals in his streetside barber shop which has come to its third generation. He loves his work and radiates it all around like a happy kid.
A good shave is always followed by a crazy face massage. Even though I feel very awake after my shave there is always Chai wallah popping up around the corner with his masala chai to give my day another boost. Chai wallah himself is pure delight as he’s the most cheerful guy roaming the street, always with teacups in his front pocket.
When the evening sets in the cutting of the scissors goes on along with the noise of a cricket game on tv and the always present blowing of horns. This is the setting of a short movie I am shooting currently called ‘A Real Bombay Barber’