The Road Where Everyone Belongs: Where History Lives
I have walked the road opposite the Red Fort in Chandni Chowk many times, usually with a camera in my hand. I…
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Ganesha’s Pen Broke, But the Story Continued
Kavyasya lekhanarthaya Ganeshah smaryatam mune. (“O Sage, seek Ganesha’s help in writing this epic.”) Having suggested to Vyasa that he seek…
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The 80s: When the World Came to Our Doorstep
The 80s are back, at least on social media. With AI, people are turning their photographs into 1980s portraits: big hair, dramatic…
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A Rupee, Diwan-e-Ghalib, and the Years Between
Going through my old books, I found this 1959 edition of Diwan-e-Ghalib, which belonged to my father. I paused and looked at…
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“A camera captures more than an image. It preserves a moment that can remind you of a poem, a verse you may have read somewhere long ago. Whenever I browse through my photographs, I find stories and poems hidden in them. Every creature seems to carry a tale of its own, and every tale has its own rhythm.”
Prerna Jain
