There is a rather comforting predictability to life when one spends half of it observing the grand, chaotic circus of human behaviour. Whether it is watching a stray cow contemplate the existential dread of crossing a mountain road at a hill station, or observing the peculiar habits of urban dwellers by the Arabian Sea, the
Notes from the Parapet: A Moderately Successful Sunset Read More »
It is an unwritten law of nature that we humans are, on the whole, a remarkably ungrateful species. One may be sitting in a garden on a quiet afternoon, watching a squirrel perform impossible acrobatics on a tree branch, or listening to rain tapping softly on an old roof, when a face from the past
Tea, Trees & Regrets Read More »
There was a time when taking a photograph involved patience, uncertainty, and occasionally mild financial recklessness. You bought a roll of film with the seriousness of a man buying ammunition before a small war. Negatives mostly, slide film if you were feeling extravagant. Every frame mattered. Every click cost money. Photography, therefore, was less of
Film, Dust and Forgotten Mornings Read More »
There are, I am told, easier ways to spend an afternoon than standing at the edge of a crocodile-infested river in Maharashtra, balancing one’s dignity and camera with equal uncertainty. Most sensible people might opt for tea, perhaps a biscuit, and the distant safety of a veranda. Naturally, I chose the riverbank. It was one
A Quiet Afternoon with Crocodiles and Questionable Composition skills Read More »
There is something faintly suspicious about flowers. They sit there in gardens, parks, vases and wedding bouquets, dressed in unapologetic colour — crimsons, yellows, purples so enthusiastic they border on theatrical — and dare you not to photograph them. Entire memory cards have been sacrificed at the altar of petals. Instagram, I am told, is
Monochrome Flowers Read More »