Remember me.

Bangladesh is a tiny country, comparable to England in size. The population, however, is a staggering 160 Million people. Poverty, disease and human tragedy are a daily reality. Walking the streets of Dhaka, the Capital, this reality is brought to the visitor in graphic detail. The hunchbacked beggar at your taxi window, the crows cawing over the putrid garbage rotting streetside. Human and animal trawling the waste of the few who are better off for something to sustain them.
This is a place where children are born on the pavement and are purposely crippled or maimed in some way by their parents to make them more effective beggars. Desperation has a name and a face on these streets.
In spite of the unpleasant sights and smells of Dhaka, there remains time for a smile, a handshake, a kind word. A flash of eyes that say "I exist, I am here, Remember me!!"

 She was seated in a rickshaw flashing by me. I took the shot on the fly, and it's probably my favourite of the day. Just a girl going about her business, who happened to have time to smile at a stranger. The beauty was not in her appearance so much as in her gesture. A living Mona Lisa.

..and then she was gone in a sea of rickshaws...

The old lady followed me for a while, muttering at me in Bangali. At first I assumed she was yet another beggar until a passerby translated for me. The lady was welcoming me to Bangladesh and thanking me for taking pictures, so the world could see their life and difficulties here in Dhaka. Would I please take a picture of her?

I did... She is beautiful.

I doubled back to rendezvous with Mel, a fellow crew member who had gone into the market to do some shopping. She gasped and pointed behind me. A large crowd had gathered behind me and were following me up the road, all wanting to be photographed. The translator explained this to us, so Mel called them to gather behind her and get their picture taken. As you can imagine, this is a surprising attitude. Normally western people avoid being photographed. These people wanted it, even though they may never see the result.
Upon further reflection I realized that they simply want to be recognized, remembered that they too exist, and have a place in this world.

Remember me... I am real.