The two boys were both shirtless and carrying backpacks directly over their skin

two half-naked boys — Primary school pupils on their way home from school

Walking through the eastern Indian town of Berhampore, I suddenly found myself confronted by two shirtless boys sprinting straight toward me. Their faded backpacks bounced wildly against their bare backs—apparently they were on their way home from school. Foreigners are a rare species in these parts, and the boys made no effort to hide their curiosity. Grinning broadly, they planted themselves in front of me as if to inspect an unusual visitor.

The heat that day was astonishing, the kind that feels as if the sun has slipped from the sky and settled directly on the streets. The asphalt rippled with mirage-like waves. Even the boys, accustomed as they must be to tropical weather, had surrendered to the temperature—backs uncovered, backpacks pressed directly against sweat and dust. I caught myself imagining the scent rising from beneath that fabric, but of course the boys had more interesting things to think about than the musings of a passing foreigner.

When I gestured to ask if I could take their photo, they exchanged a sly glance and immediately pressed their shoulders together, ready for the camera. But as soon as I raised the lens, they lunged forward, eager not to be photographed but to peer into the mysterious tunnel of the camera itself. Their curiosity had nothing innocent about it; there was a hint of slyness, a spark of calculation. In Berhampore, even children seem to know that the world is more intriguing when you look straight into it.

Berhampore on Google Map

Comment via

日本語