CHAMBA: NARRATIVES THROUGH HUMAN LENS
Imagine all the people you meet in your life's journey. There are so many. Coming in like waves, trickling in and out of the tides. Imagine seeking stories in these people, like things from deep bottoms of the sea, tossed onto the shore like imprints against the grains of sand. Proof that the waves had once been there, long after the tide recedes. Only to go back and dip your feet in the tides, again?
This one's for the warmth of Chamba, for the people, with its people. And more importantly, this one's for me.
The town gives way to echoes of a lifetime. A construct of contrasts, scripts of age.
Beyond the confines of a single gaze, the marketplace is bustling. How are we to find, what is missing?
In layered hues, the world unfolds. A tapestry of stories, waiting to be told.
Unshackled from the norm, the mind's free flight. The Chowgaan Mohalla's morning, after a starry night.
Through altered eyes, perspectives rearrange. Differences in roles, spectrums of change.
In the sheltered haven, our hearts find embrace. Fears subside, and we learn grace.
Through happy eyes, a small world dares to dream. Taking pride in his journey, raising collars of esteem.
The silk stitches twirl, roles of giving and receiving strength to the thread intertwine.
Artisans of the Chamba Rumaal, create divine.
Of ritualistic discussions, a plethora of memories gained with time, and experience? Traded for physique.
Soaked in Shiva's rhythm, ancient tales are affirmed. From Gurdaspur's heart to the Gods, a gift performed.
