Written from the perspective of a girl in the photograph, which was clicked in the periphery of the Kalra caves in Maharashtra
I stand on the edge of the precipice. I live in a world of abject poverty. My bare body is exposed to the elements of nature wearing it out before its time. I struggle to find my daily bread. I see everyday hundreds of visitors travelling to see an ancient ruin from distant lands. I often wonder how their world is different from my own.
My Version of the Ending:
They seem to be better off – well fed, nourished and covered. Theirs must be a better place to live in – happier and comfortable. There must be no daily struggle for life.
Nonetheless, I do not see the same curiousity in their eyes as I have in my own. Some give me a cursory glance. But I am mostly ignored. I seem to be a familiar face to them. Does their world have people like me to? Do they suffer and struggle? If the visitors are so well off, why do they not help those like me? Can they not improve the state of their own world?
Her Version of the Ending:
They seem to be well fed, nourished and covered, yet I do not see happiness in them - joie de vivre. Theirs must be a life of strife.
I may be poor but I can meet my needs and live to see another day. I may be hungry, but I am satisfied with a light meal. I may be cold, but I draw the heat of the sun because nature is my home. I may be bare, but I have nothing to conceal. I am stronger than they think. I am brighter than the darkness that engulfs my pains. I need neither help nor charity. I am content.