The sky weeps
as a light rain falls. Human spirits, faces painted in white, eyes adorned with black circles, walk somberly.
The light from the candles that the hands hold, is casting an eerie light on the face. Dead people are walking; dead
in illusion but their spirits are alive. Death being a mere illusion for the living spirits.
Altars have sprung up everywhere. Altars for the departed souls replete with food for the them, their favorite
wines and food. Photos of the ones watching from above, adorn the altars as the living seek harmony with the dead.
A few hundred candles burn, lighting up the dark. A painted skeleton peeps into the mirror only to find itself
staring back. A stark reminder of the image we might be, when the spirit leaves for the world beyond. I am drawn
to the candles, slowly giving their life away to illuminate the world around. A little girl stands. holding a red
candle, fascinated by the candle and the glow emanating from it.
I feel hesitant, unsure whether capturing these moments would mean intruding into the private rememberances. As I look
through the lens, I feel one with the spirits, dead and alive. It's another day, a celebration of being alive...