Water washes away your sins.
When devout Hindu pilgrims travel to the banks of the Ganges. When they dip in its holy waters to cleanse themselves of their sins. When they believe the water will purify their souls and rid them of bad karma.
Water washes away blood.
When women across India are kept in their rooms during menstruation. When they are given separate utensils to eat and drink from. When they are prevented from worshipping their gods as, they are considered dirty. On the fourth day of menstruation, women across India begin their day by washing their hair – removing the dirt and grime collected in their dreams at night. They appear before their gods, clean and fresh, heads bowed in reverence.
Water washes away touch.
When a random hand on the road mistakenly squeezes your breasts. When in a crowd, your buttocks get pinched. When a man gets too close at a party, the smell of alcohol engulfing your senses. When you are groped without permission. When you are kissed without consent. When you don’t know how to say no. When you say no but, it doesn’t matter. When you cannot tell anyone, you turn to water. You allow it to wash over you as waves of guilt and shame creep closer. You cleanse yourself, but the dirt never leaves your body.
Water drowns you.
While you sit, waiting for the pain to go away, for the memory to be washed into the gutter, for shame to retreat into your subconscious, for the body to tell you that you will be fine, it will all be fine.
Water calms you.
It nourishes you, cleans you, and soothes you. It quenches your thirst and takes away the pain of a long day. It holds you in its gentle embrace as you sit drenched, alone in a small room with a single window.
Water is what I turn to when I can’t turn to anyone else.
Naqab (Mask) is a photographic exploration through a series of portraits of the many masks I wear as an Indian woman. It is my attempt to unravel, uncover, and discover my deep-seated conditioning, biases, strengths and weaknesses, one portrait at a time.
The project will span a year, with one portrait every week.
If you liked this project, please consider sharing or recommending my publication. It would immensely help a new writer like me reach a wider audience.
Samira, the posts in this series keep getting better and better. This section: “ Water washes away touch” broke my heart because, too many times, yes.
Your writing stings and rejuvenates, just like an icy cold glass of water on a hot summer day! Am so awed by your project. Even more in awe of you is the way you keep recreating yourself with every new project! Lots of love.