Rite of passage
Growing up as a girl in New Delhi was daunting. From the moment we are old enough to understand, we begin to notice stories of violence and servitude. We see it in movies, where harassment and abuse are romanticized. We see it at home, when our parents’ friends make jokes about women belonging in the kitchen. We see it in school, when we’re taught to dress appropriately to avoid ‘tempting’ the boys. We see it on the news, when there is a particularly cruel and brutal rape that captures the media’s attention. Everywhere we go, there’s a man leering at us, unashamed.
As we grow, we find ways to resist. We travel in packs, we stand up to our teachers, we call out our uncles, we go out dancing, we wear the clothes we want to wear. We learn to unlearn, till we have some semblance of an identity. For this project, I wanted to photograph my life and the lives of my friends as we grow out of our childhood. I wanted to photograph our becoming.