Darjeeling – ‘Behind the scenes’

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Darjeeling, which they call it fondly as the ‘Queen of hills’, is famously a land – where the Buddha sleeps under the whitest of all blankets and a land where the little bud blooms, caressed by the greenest of two leaves. However, far across the distance and spaces of its mountain vistas, this is also the land of the Teesta blues, where its ripples weave stories of joy, sorrows and a chorus of delirium of thousands of men, women, their laboured lives, endlessly misted by the mainland’s hysteria around Keventer’s, Glenary’s and the British bunglows. Here, I bring before you, visuals from Darjeeling’s gullies – be it the local instrumentalist playing melancholy chords, the spike-haired, soap-bubble seller blowing rainbow-dreams, the deadpan wait of the pony-man or the passersby on the mall road – these are essentially illustrated accounts of ‘behind-the scene’ people, who make up the margins of the tourists’ paradise.

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