"It tastes like feet" ( The invisibles Part 2 )

you may read the first part here.

It was at the beginning of my life inside mumbai (out side IIT) that I wrote the previous post "the invisibles". It was the time when these unknown beggar faces turning slowly into recognizable human beings. I met them every day at different parts of mumbai, all the way from ghatkopar to lower parel every corner of the road, foot over bridges, at the queue, outside the office compound wall... everywhere.

Now i know them better, I know them by face. they know me by face. And i can't explain how it feels to be greeted by a poor man on the ghatkopar bridge when i get back from office everyday. That smile we share, is such a wonderful thing that human beings can enjoy. As far as I know, only human beings can enjoy!

I told you, they were transforming... slowly... From invisibles to street people to some recognizable faces. In fact, it wasn't them but me who was changing. It's the world that I created around myself was changing. I started seeing them. I started looking at them, I started recognizing them. The change was right inside me and not anywhere else.

The more I looked at them --Not forcefully but I had no other choice since we shared a common space... my streets were their home.-- the more their life unfolded in front of me. A life full of tiny specks of happiness spread around heaps of filth.

Back then, the monsoons were yet to hit mumbai and it was a clear and dusty morning. I was about enter my office premises and I couldn't help noticing them cooking something. They were cooking chicken.

But when I say 'chicken' i didn't mean that juicy meat that you buy from a vendor or that frozen pack that you pick up from the super market.

they were cooking chicken feet!

They must've been collecting chicken waste-- the feet and the skin--from butcher shops.

And what else did i see there? ... Kids running around, waiting for that 'special' dish their moms were preparing. Everyone seemed excited. For that different, tasty dish of the day! When I said... tiny specks of happiness spread around heaps of filth... I meant this!!

Now, when I watch FRIENDS and Ross says "this tastes like feet!", what should I think of?



  1. I thought I would write a comment to this post, but now that I've started writing, I don't really find the right words. I chose to remain silent. I am silent, coz I happened to pass by another such group of women who had actually been picking those chicken feet, in old parts of Lucknow, where I had gone on a hobby photography trip. I feel more sad about me, than about them. The reason, I chose to capture their plight on my camera, instead of doing something else. I chose to take images of their shy faces, which they were trying to hide, for they had a complex about their inferiority. I did not react at all. I kept on clicking images with a heart of stone. It was when I returned home and I actually saw those images, that I felt like crying, again, not for them, but for myself. How cruel I was that day. I can't forget the expressions on the faces of the ladies. They were expecting me to leave them alone. But I was a selfish man. i was looking for a winning pic for the forthcoming photography contest. I sure would have won the contest, had I not deleted the images forever from my PC.

    I felt the same guilt after reading your post. I just don't know how to get away from it.

  2. Hello
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  3. Once I did this kind of photography. I remember it. It is really very sad. Well thanks for this nice post. Keep posting such a way as I can keep visiting this blog very often. Thanks for this great post here.