Dharavi

and the bright blues and reds of the pictures of the small portion of a town are very appealing and beautiful. the high gloss of the National Geographic photographs legendary; 

does paint the town in a pretty light. pictures of the adults working kids playing a girl in a dress the occasional close up of an old person's weathered, life spent, face you know the one I'm talking of, a man that looks to be 110 years old, 

wearing non-American headgear (towel-head, you might say). a man that has been through life and has kids, grandkids and great-grandkids to his credit. he has seen it all and his face shows the pains, and each hardship cut into the deep cracks in his cheeks.

 the look that half says "whats the big deal I'm just me" and half says "I have lived through more horror than you can imagine" There are plenty of words to go with the pictures, but nobody really reads when there are pictures - whats the point? 

 Dharavi - a slum, full of poor who wash their clothes in sewer water. aerial shot of the cardboard shacks inches apart. dirty people in a dirty part of a city as if this is the only city with its shame contained to a few square blocks. kind of easy to view the pictures in the magazine and talk of the sadness in distant countries while drinking a latte looking out the window of the coffee shop. but not easy to see those children sitting in the grass while a homeless woman, their mother, stands in the middle of the road with a sign pleading to be pitied, helped, and most of all acknowledge.