We leave
amongst
the
greatest.
We speak of
vast love
and carry
forth our
own.
Photography by Carla Silva
of
@photasiaphotography
We rise with a harmonized calling, a calling for saving mankind. We rise from the earth and we speak as the air. Our hair knotted tight as our eyes narrow down, towards our hearts. We raise our hands as though we speak the language of warrior Kings. We are women who bow down to only one calling; that is our own. Our homes are our kingdoms and we bred the born strong.
To NADIA MOHABIR we REMEMBER
I could go on forever, praising the women who raised us strong and free but I could also bury myself deep in the Canadian soil I call my home. Two of which our dearly beloved belong to and to those angels, we pray to be with them one day. They know us as their loved ones and to us our beloved. What happens when we leave earth? Does the world not call us back? I imagine my soul floating above the waters, brewed against the filaments of steel and copper barrels, lost and forever afloat. Death is a beautiful voice that echoes against the barrels we leave alone at sea. Sometimes I dream of death, yes of my own and how I would float above my loved ones. In a midst of subconsciousness surrounded by the scents of an astonishing cup of Rooibos tea. Recalling moments of their voices, an uprise of positive choices.
Now I remember, I was loved.
As I would watch them from above, I wished I could preserve their very moments so they were never disturbed as I embedded their laughter with my light.
While soaring above their day to day activities I could sense myself chasing my dreams. Back in my physical body, while I sleep, approaching them but never being able to embrace them. A feeling you have when you think you're going to see that mysterious face, someone you have been awaiting for so long. They never turn around. It's as if you are muted out surrounded by an estranged coercion; a shield of strong fogs but so transparent it felt real. I would never be able to pierce my fingers through just so that I could for once embrace my sister's hands or sleep on my mother's lap again. My father would be there resting and my other siblings would be cheering on melodically during an intimate get together.
To NADIA MOHABIR we REMEMBER
I could go on forever, praising the women who raised us strong and free but I could also bury myself deep in the Canadian soil I call my home. Two of which our dearly beloved belong to and to those angels, we pray to be with them one day. They know us as their loved ones and to us our beloved. What happens when we leave earth? Does the world not call us back? I imagine my soul floating above the waters, brewed against the filaments of steel and copper barrels, lost and forever afloat. Death is a beautiful voice that echoes against the barrels we leave alone at sea. Sometimes I dream of death, yes of my own and how I would float above my loved ones. In a midst of subconsciousness surrounded by the scents of an astonishing cup of Rooibos tea. Recalling moments of their voices, an uprise of positive choices.
Now I remember, I was loved.
As I would watch them from above, I wished I could preserve their very moments so they were never disturbed as I embedded their laughter with my light.
While soaring above their day to day activities I could sense myself chasing my dreams. Back in my physical body, while I sleep, approaching them but never being able to embrace them. A feeling you have when you think you're going to see that mysterious face, someone you have been awaiting for so long. They never turn around. It's as if you are muted out surrounded by an estranged coercion; a shield of strong fogs but so transparent it felt real. I would never be able to pierce my fingers through just so that I could for once embrace my sister's hands or sleep on my mother's lap again. My father would be there resting and my other siblings would be cheering on melodically during an intimate get together.
How I wish to be myself again, on my toes as they now walk on water. I can do anything and everything. My world is at peace but my heart is in two worlds now. Before it would beat for two places, two things; my family and my passion. Now it is a rhythm I only remember, one of my favourites. An angelic voice rejoices me as I am not alone here and there are many others who share their stories. I believe in the east and west. I believe in the northern star of the north and the southern suns of the south. I breathe freely where butterflies painted in indigo layer their wings together and guide me towards the heavens.
Above is Nadia Mohabir, a soul painted with the abundance of colour. We all wish to witness great Art; muses who evolve on set to feel the concept and allow the energy of the shoot into their auras. She was a fighter and would work till the right movement was captured. The energy seen in the above photos was from an earlier shoot which is now published, in print in Lavish Dulhan. Thank you for including this story and giving her final shoot a great platform. Nadia was an absolute charm on set. Without a doubt she would light the flame inside us all. She voiced her concerns and how we could make the shoot better. We had a chance to work on three culturally enticing shoots together. Always a fresh, radiant wonder. She was more than just someone we knew within the realm fashion here in Toronto.
Above is Nadia Mohabir, a soul painted with the abundance of colour. We all wish to witness great Art; muses who evolve on set to feel the concept and allow the energy of the shoot into their auras. She was a fighter and would work till the right movement was captured. The energy seen in the above photos was from an earlier shoot which is now published, in print in Lavish Dulhan. Thank you for including this story and giving her final shoot a great platform. Nadia was an absolute charm on set. Without a doubt she would light the flame inside us all. She voiced her concerns and how we could make the shoot better. We had a chance to work on three culturally enticing shoots together. Always a fresh, radiant wonder. She was more than just someone we knew within the realm fashion here in Toronto.
These photos emulate the forces of death and life. The bounties we share with loved ones are infinite. Their light will burn in our hearts endlessly. We remember a woman of colour, a woman of a plethora of opportunities who we wish had stayed. She is here, within us all. As the plains blossom with the opulent Lily, we remember NADIA MOHABIR.
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