We, The Condemned


I took the image of the semazen (in the cover) during a sublime performance in a caravanserai.
I took the image of the semazen (in the cover) during a sublime performance in a caravanserai.
A word game and an image game. A word game of creating portmanteaus of Greek origin words suffixed with phobia. An image game of finding these phobias in imaginary tales. We live our lives in fear or in search of fear. We look for them in other people and in
I am all. And all is me. This street in an ancient town has killed many and saved many. Don't look for order and justice and goodness. Look only for the dim yellow light.
I was travelling to Konya in late winter on a clear morning. The fields on the sides of the road were light brown. And far off on the horizon, a little house, barely visible. Perhaps, the house of the farmer tending to these fields.
Photo essay of a journey through forgotten towns. Pictures and words by Mohit Patel, original published on Nov 24, 2019. It takes 2 hours and 5 stories to reach the "village-at-no-place". Some of these stories are told out loud, while some play out in your mind. The words