Saturday, December 1, 2012

Ganga: A Mother and a River

 She is Ganga. Indians call her mother. She flows through our history books and is steeped in our cultural unconscious. She overflows our spiritual lives even today--whether at her banks or through her waters. She is the fulcrum of contemporary social lives for many. We call her Ganga Ma--the river of our hearts.

Monday, November 12, 2012


In a taxi in Kolkata, the land of Kali. Today is also Kali Puja! And Kali is the ultimate teacher of I wish all my readers with more than happiness--I wish you equanimity at all times and all situations!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Indians Who Laughed

I enjoy making folks laugh when I photograph them, not so much for the shoot, but rather as that moment when I can give them something--that momentary mirth, that forgetting of other things, the warmth of joy for that moment. On a grey day down here in South of India, I hope these photographs make you smile too-:)

Young women near Misrikh, Uttar Pradesh

Friday, October 12, 2012

Saturday, September 15, 2012

That and This

Nature and Industrial society co-exist in their own way. But they need to be in balance.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Old Only, Not Dead

I saw her sitting on the edge of a raised platform in village Kustana, Odisha. She sat there, eyes closed, oblivious to people passing by or my camera but her firm grip on her stick and her vibrant set of bangles showed she was in control. I wondered what she thought--of days gone by or of dreams she still had. Dedicated to all seniors who have much love to give and get!

When I believe in Myself

I was seated on his porch at village Kishanpur, drinking chai when he came and sat on a cot nearby. Royal in his posture, he peered into me with a mix of surprise (huh, a woman?) and contempt (what do we have to fake for this urbanite?). I sensed it. I sensed the chasm. And yet, I loved his silent pride in his life and living.

And in the same village, on the same porch, I saw this young boy (see below), standing covered with flies. What was utterly difficult to watch was that the boy did not make the least little effort to shake off the flies. Others shoed them off. But one fly remained--a poignant reminder of how it is when our sense of self-belief is gone.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

She Writes, He Writes (Part-I)

In recognition of teachers who teach and in gratitude to my own teachers, a photo-essay on students across the country.

Yes, she writes. Village Jarkhi, Jharkhand