The colour and vibrance of the costumes of the ‘Kutchis’ are enough remission for the arid vapidity of the Kutch desert.
Everytime I visit a village in India, I see an unspoiled innocence that my camera never does justice to. The women (and men) of Kutch were no exception. My next post will cover my trip to Kutch and Bhuj…where my ancestors are known to have lived decades before they migrated to East Africa. Perhaps I was trying to trace my roots back, beyond the ages? I dont have an answer to what took me back there but I didnt regret it one bit.