Buku Sarkar’s “Containment Diaries” is a dark, revealing window into the photographer’s illness, crisis, and physical and emotional distress.

“I couldn’t get out of bed today, which is nothing new. I just couldn’t lift my neck from the pillow. I felt like I’d had a concussion. Electric sparks run up my spine. I can’t feel the tremors today. But when you are in the presence of others, you feel you must perform. So I do it, for the sake of my parents. Then perhaps every day has been a performance.”

When Buku Sarkar moved from New York City to New Delhi in 2013, she began suffering from a chronic undiagnosed medical condition. Her hands tremored, her body exhausted. She lost her balance, and frequently lost consciousness. She lived in constant pain for years, rarely leaving the house. When she did venture out, for a wedding or another family gathering, she had to rest for at least a day to harness the strength to avoid collapsing.

After keeping the condition – which she still suffers from today – quiet for years, and amidst quarantine adding an additional layer of distress, Sarkar began documenting it in a series of dark, revealing self-portraits titled “Containment Diaries.” Soaked in low light, often blurred by long exposures, Sarkar’s visual diary takes the viewer through her painful journey of nightmares, fear, panic, and tremors, with no visual end in sight. For Sarkar, it’s a letter to her family, friends, and the outside world – a means to communicate something she withheld for years. “It’s a way of way of showing you,” writes Sarkar, “how I really was when you never saw me, when I was alone in my apartment, surrounded by a beautiful garden I rarely entered.”

I spoke with Sarkar to learn more about her journey.

Editors note: Buku Sarkar is currently having a print sale on her website. If you are moved by her story and you’d like to support her work during this challenging time, check it out.

Jon Feinstein in conversation with Buku Sarkar