Nagaland: A lesson in war and love

I have never been a mountain person. I have never been a beach person either. Eventually, one beautiful sight makes way for another. I am however a people person.

Nagaland: The man from Hornbill festival

Something about him struck in me instantly an acute nostalgia. It was his voice, I realized, he sounded just like my late grandfather I last heard when I was twelve.

Shooting landscapes - II

Our brains are wired to like certain patterns and themes more than others. And thus, when these patterns and themes are applied to photographs, we are drawn to them like Kim Jong-un to missiles.

Shooting landscapes - I

At the heart of all great travel photographs, lies a very simple idea – use natural light when it is at its best.

Cooling Down In Velas

What does it feel to be reckless and stupid? There was only one way to find out, it headed straight down the river. So I did what the reckless and stupid would do. I jumped.

Un-holi in Uttar Pradesh - II

It was not the first time I let instinct override logic, certainly not the last. I knew I could trust, that was my absolute truth in that moment, not that I could be wrong, but that I could trust.

Un-holi in Uttar Pradesh - I

I had stepped out twice, onto the dirt road outside the station absolved of all light, to smell liquor on the male-only crowd, and for them to smell fear on me, and come back.

Catching the surf in Pondicherry

I continued to sink, the orb that was the sun growing paler, the water calmer. Then at one point, in one brilliant speck of a second, we froze – the water and I.

Backpacker's Guide to Bhutan

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Kolhapur - Tracing kushti's origin

It was a terrible piece of advice, I must say, for away offered no different a sight. Fifty odd men, all hiding their masculinity in itsy-bitsy pockets—langots—swarmed our view.

The story of mardani khel

Uncovering the history of an Indian martial art form called mardani khel...

A whale of a time

In a strange way, it was both humbling and inspiring to watch that stunning orgy of flesh, fat and force hurl itself into the air from the mouth of the ocean with unbelievable grace.

The music of Hampi

I looked at Harsha as she played the djembe like a woman possessed, moments away from conjuring spirits of her forefathers. She looked at me as I sang, my face contorted like I was being administered an enema. Then we looked away, terrified.

Pune: colours of Ganpati visarjan

And then I saw a glimpse, of saffron silk flags dancing in the skies as their bearers danced to the beats of the dhol-tasha, their energy rippling through the crowd. A hundred cameras flashed above the sea of heads.

Anegundi - The Ramayana trail

I am not sure if my health insurance covers hernia,” I said as I launched a fresh bout of kicks in an attempt to start our rented moped.

Pen: in search of idol makers

I can't help but smile at the irony: the man who supposedly God created, was now creating Him.