WOLFPACK
BROTHERS BOND
Bartending one slow monday evening on the Lower East Side in New York, I was staring out the window when six men - who looked at first glance as if they'd just walked out of the Matrix trilogy - walked past. I threw my wine key at my boss and told him I’d be back in 5 and ran out after them. I lost them, they were gone. I stood for a good two minutes on the
street, when I noticed a few people in front of me pointing and whispering. I turned around, and there they were. That is how I met the six Angulo Brothers: Jagadisa, age 12, Krsna, age 13, Mukunda, age 16, the twins Govinda and Naryana, age 18 and the oldest Bhagavan who was 19 years old.
The Angulos are six brothers that every now and then are seen roaming the streets of Lower East Side. They hide their innocent eyes behind their sunglasses. Their hair
reaches down to the back of their thighs and is often tied together in a ponytail. They glide with movie star grace and wear their finest suits. If looked closely you can tell the suits they wear are old handy downs and a few sizes too big. I wasn't sure I would ever hear from them again but then one day I got a weird phone call from Govinda and a few weeks after our first encounter on a sunday afternoon I became part of their little world for a few hours.
They live on The Lower East Side with their parents and one sister, and are as close as any brothers can be. They enjoyed having their photographs taken despite it being a really cold New York day. Their similar looks, especially when they all wear their suits gives the illusion they are one and the same, but each has their own strong personality, their own individual voice and opinions. Some were more vocal than others but they all felt very present, like I had their undivided attention.
They have been called vampires, mafia kids, killers, drug dealers and worse. It makes a couple of them laugh but the others fire up. Walking the streets with them, you can feel the stares. It is hard not to stare, their unique look is captivating, but Jagadisa, Krsna, Mukunda, Govinda, Naryana and Bhagavan are no mafia kids or killers, they are in fact no different from other boys their age. They are friendly, polite, sincere, searching, curious kids that talk about wanting to have more friends, to make movies, travel and maybe one day have a girlfriend.
The six brothers have been home schooled their whole life by their mother, something they say they don't really mind. But when they share they have actually never left the four walls of their apartment until recently, they all laugh about it casually but there is a pain that follows the laugh. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, in that first phone call when Govinda called, that felt odd. But he sounded secretive, whispering almost like
someone who might be caught at any minute doing something illegal. He wasn’t allowed to talk to me he confided in me later but the brothers had slowly formed an escape plan of sorts that worked. One of the first times they had stepped out from the apartment, he tells me, was when I ran into them on the street while bartending. It all made sense, their over confidence on that day but how they seemed just like scared little puppies at the same time and that strange phonecall, where he had said, right before hanging up, don’t call this number back, it’s a secret mission phone. I slowly puzzled their existence together.
We pass a woman who sells clothes on Ludlow street, and they tell me that sometimes she has great stuff that she gives to them. “We can't afford new things but when we find good stuff or are given good stuff we make it work”. Girls dig this look, they tell me laughing.
Govinda called me a year later and told me he was moving to San Francisco to pursue his dream of becoming a filmmaker. It will be the first time the brothers will be apart for this long. I am very excited for him. New York 2010
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