On our road trip through Tamil Nadu, we pulled into a small village—a pit stop for weary travelers. And there, amidst the everyday rhythms, I spotted him: an old uncle on a weathered bicycle, balancing fresh hay. His face, etched with lines of time, held stories—of monsoons and harvests, of cattle waiting patiently. As I clicked the shutter, I carried that photograph—a slice of reality—knowing that art often hides in the ordinary, waiting for curious eyes.

In Pondicherry, I spotted a young person seeking shade beneath a boardwalk while friends splashed in the blue sea. A quiet contrast—the stillness and the laughter—etched itself into memory