The Queue

A slow-moving line, bodies pressed close for balance more than space. 

At the Gangasagar transit camp, waiting becomes a shared posture—hands resting on shoulders, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the frame.

Faces

At Babughat transit camp, the morning begins in a slow, patient line. The woman stands in the queue, waiting for a free breakfast.

Galiff Street, Kolkata — On the Way Back

I wasn’t planning to photograph Galiff Street. 

On the way back, the street insisted. Cages passed from hand to hand. Birds shifted, waited, watched. Men gathered, negotiated, lingered. Nothing dramatic — just routine, repetition, memory at work. Light broke the street into glare and shadow. Colour felt unnecessary. Monochrome held the weight better. A rooster pressed against a man’s chest, alert and unmoving, looking straight back. These are passing moments — unplanned, unclaimed. 

A few quick snapshots taken while returning from a sketching session. Galiff Street, Kolkata.

Early winter morning at the Maidan, Kolkata

A quick snapshot before I found a place to sit and sketch. The fog was still thick, blurring the edges of trees and earth, muting the vastness of the Maidan into something intimate. Young plants stood guarded, old trunks rested where they fell, and the city felt far away. Moments like this feel like a gentle pause—before the lines begin, before the noise returns.

Ei Somoy

A quick pause between journeys. 

The train stopped at a signal, just long enough to notice this quiet corner of the platform—the bicycle leaning patiently, the man lost in his own world, the layers of time on the shuttered wall. I clicked without thinking too much. Moments like these don’t ask to be framed; they simply appear and vanish. On the way to Taki.