Jaipur is a tumbling terra cotta pink city that bewilders as it beats you around the head with heat, traffic, dust and vendors. In case you’ve forgotten how to shop, the men outside the various stores will remind you how to do it: “hello, madam, step inside. Come look, we have gold, saris, buckets, padlocks, rice, tea, spices, underwear, cruddy t-shirts, pots, religious paraphernalia, etc.” They would, if you let them, walk you into the store; they’ll un-package everything for you; they’ll make up your mind for you; they’ll re-design the interior of your wardrobe and your home and even take the cash from your purse if only you’d let them! But, when you’re stuck at work, and think ‘there must be a life better than this,’ take comfort in the knowledge that the majority of people, the people of Jaipur for instance, are likewise embedded, shackled to a shop no bigger than a garage , attempting to extract a living whilst life, it seems, is slowly extracted. Amongst the smiles, and the colour, the cheery barbed banter designed to lure you interior, there’s a vacancy behind the eyes that smacks the artlessness of sitting in a storefront hour after hour. Come, take a walk around the Bazaars of Jaipur.
Faces of Jaipur