Dharowar - Livelihood, lineage or Heritage - a depiction at Russel Market, Bengaluru

Bengaluru's famous Russell Market, a kaleidoscope of views, sounds, and aromas, is a place withholding surprises for anyone who comes in with a preset notion. Over the past 88 years of operation, this market has not changed much, apart from the famous case of the lost clock tower. Situated in Shivajinagar, one of the most buzzing areas in the city, this Market offers meat, fruits, flowers and a wide range of fishes.

Named after TB Russell, because of his dedication and initiative in the project, the market was in honour of the 1920s Municipal Commission President. 

The market was created, according to historian Suresh Moona, due to the rising demands of the civil and military stations. 

It is right across the Dargah Peer Hazrat Jamal Shah Quadri, and time and again azans could be heard from nearby. 

As much as the place amazed me with its beauty and architecture, I was welcomed by an eagle flying right above my head and flicking the camera off me (it's a good thing I had a strong hold on it). 

This incident shook me enough to make me understand that all my preconceived notions have no place here, and I'll have to start afresh. 

I was a vegan for about four years and recently, I am a vegetarian. Yes, as soon as one hears it, one either assumes I am pretentious or too sensitive to consume any animal. 

However, my journey started as I just wanted to do bring in some balance by doing the things that are within my control.

In the spirit of learning something new, as I walked in the lanes of Russell market, with hooked meat loaves on each side, I could see that the people here also just focus on the things that they can control. 

Control is something which was mentioned here more often than expected. "You need to know where to cut and till where to skin. Even going an inch beneath the leg area, for example, would make the whole thing unsaleable. It's not just about strength but also about controlling it to do things the right way," Ahmed, a butcher tells me in Hindi.

As I walked past a few of Ahmed's colleagues, none talked or looked directly into my camera, but gave the most earnest faces that they could. 

One of the butchers saw me capturing him from every angle, and he maintained a soft smile of determination on his face as if to convey without words that he is in control and is doing the job at hand with honesty.

Maybe, as humans are first instinct is to judge people. In some ways, our primitive minds make subconscious decisions based on these judgements and rarely do we come out of those primal instincts.

Russell market was a trip at crossroads, both literal and psychological - on one hand, there were hundreds of animals being slaughtered and on the other, there were hundreds of human bellies dependent on this 'dharowar' or livelihood, whereby these men were doing their best to keep the latter continuing. What I also learned was that livelihood and lineage are things one protects the most. 

As we switched between lanes inside the market, two fishermen took me and a friend as being associated with a news agency and came out of their stalls to pose. While one of them went out of his way to showcase he has no problem with being clicked, the other gestured to a few of his younger colleagues to get inside. After posing for a few shots, they started asking questions regarding my whereabouts and why would I want to click them. As they took sighs after my revelation of the intent behind the pictures, I could the trying-to-much person was more of an introvert and once he understood there was no threat to his people or livelihood, he didn't care to be the flamboyant self he was trying to portray. Again both of us had something to learn about the notions we held against the other. But I understand I have more to ponder than him.

I don't know when and how we created a world, whereby the divide among humans is so layered, they are almost impossible to penetrate and look at each other without a lens. Nonetheless, I'll keep my frivolous hope of getting moments like these whereby the only lens existing between me and my subjects is a camera lens and not a societal one; which we have each worn in the myth of protecting ourselves, our livelihoods and eventually, our lineage.