1984, Delhi, India
Plate 39, 18x27
India occupies a world of its own. Picture the old method of transport against the new manufacturing. Only India allows this to live in some sort of harmony. India adds and adds but throws out nothing, so it has become a gigantic bowl containing many, many people and many, many things. Nothing is organized, yet all is organized, for it functions enough for a billion people to call it home and refer to it as Mother India. This brings to mind that though they called her mother, her sons dominate, and the women allow and submit. I saw villages with women cracking stones into pieces and hauling them to a cement factory while the men sat. The men thought and thought and then started over and thought again.