ENTRY DESCRIPTION
I met him on the steps of the Jama Masjid in Delhi, he told me he had traveled by train all the way from Murshidabad a city in West Bengal.

AUTHOR
My earliest memory of my love affair with the camera began in Kenya where my father allowed me to play with his Yashica twin-lens reflex. Things which unravel out of your childhood are destined to stay with you for life, often biding their time until they emerge out of the shadows to become the only pathway.

Next, in Kathmandu, he bought me a Chinese-made plastic camera, my first. All I did for a few days, was have the back open, lick the shutter and watch in wonder. None of the above actually amounted to me clicking any shots. It has been a journey off learning discovery and exhilaration since then. Photography, as a passion you fuel, consumes you and transforms you on a tangible level, making a wanderer without without a timetable, out of you. I could not have prayed anything better.

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