It was a Sunday evening in the midst of autumn and I was walking across town for my usual photo shoot. I stood on the edge of a platform on a temple as I looked upon the traditional buildings. I took a photograph and attempted to capture the moment in time. These walks across town had become a ritual for me, an escape from my daily life.
In a distance the birds took flight in one burst and I followed them through my camera lens. In an instant they seemed so high up and it felt like they were not rising but I was the one drowning between the chaoses of everyday life. I saw children running on the other side of the pavement, their legs moving too fast to follow. On the stoned paved road army trucks, motorbikes and rickshaws perched on and off in careless dismay. I saw an elderly man slowly promenading with a walking stick and couple of little girls met him arm in arm to step aside to the Mandela of a temple. Dusk grew near the mystical city as the day light faded into darkness and the streets lamps began to light up. As I watched the street lamps flicker on and off like fire flies of the night, my camera hung around my shoulder.
I noticed streaks of dirt stretched along the walls of the temple as clouds of dust hovered around and it looked hazy like an old photograph. The aged bells around the temples echoed through the air as if trying to balance what was opposite. An old monk walked around a stupa spinning the prayer wheels as people walked towards their home through the dim lit streets, exhausted by their daily works. Dogs curled up comfortably near the vendor's stand where crowds of people bought zesty meals. On a courtyard through an alley I could see little children running, playing innocent games. They seemed so happy and content with their life.
As I looked around I noticed a young boy in ragged clothes, sitting idly beside a temple. He looked angelic under the halo of a street light. I took a photograph without him noticing and walked closer to take another photograph. He smiled and cheerfully posed for a photograph. We stood in complete silence as if sharing a sacred moment, and I felt in debt for what he had given me. I thought I would hand him some money but he quickly disappeared into the shadows of an alley. He wanted nothing from me but left me with his picture to be cherished.
These little things are the moments I believe that are to captured and frozen in time. They hold a different story that should be told to everyone. These images portray real life of the people in my city.
Through these walks around town I have taken photographs of people from the place I call home. Every photograph has its own story to tell. Through these walks I saw my home through the eyes of the common people. These walks not only made me think clearly about my life but also about the people's life around me. The whole world is changing rapidly but Kathmandu is stuck in its old ways, stuck in time.
Through these photographs I want to tell the untold stories of the people of my home town. The things we ignore. I held a photo exhibition titled "Life in Kathmandu". Through this photo exhibition I hoped to bring a change in the people's perspective even if small by showing them what I had seen through my camera lens. To make them care about the people around them. The photo exhibition went for a week and many people attended the exhibition. The untold stories of the unknown people of my home town were finally told.
They say that the only thing constant is change. Even if it is a little change it can have a ripple effect. Even if I can bring a little change in the world, I will be content. By exhibiting these photographs of the people around my home town I was able to aware people about their surrounding and that they too can do their part of changing the world around them for the better.
In a distance the birds took flight in one burst and I followed them through my camera lens. In an instant they seemed so high up and it felt like they were not rising but I was the one drowning between the chaoses of everyday life. I saw children running on the other side of the pavement, their legs moving too fast to follow. On the stoned paved road army trucks, motorbikes and rickshaws perched on and off in careless dismay. I saw an elderly man slowly promenading with a walking stick and couple of little girls met him arm in arm to step aside to the Mandela of a temple. Dusk grew near the mystical city as the day light faded into darkness and the streets lamps began to light up. As I watched the street lamps flicker on and off like fire flies of the night, my camera hung around my shoulder.
I noticed streaks of dirt stretched along the walls of the temple as clouds of dust hovered around and it looked hazy like an old photograph. The aged bells around the temples echoed through the air as if trying to balance what was opposite. An old monk walked around a stupa spinning the prayer wheels as people walked towards their home through the dim lit streets, exhausted by their daily works. Dogs curled up comfortably near the vendor's stand where crowds of people bought zesty meals. On a courtyard through an alley I could see little children running, playing innocent games. They seemed so happy and content with their life.
As I looked around I noticed a young boy in ragged clothes, sitting idly beside a temple. He looked angelic under the halo of a street light. I took a photograph without him noticing and walked closer to take another photograph. He smiled and cheerfully posed for a photograph. We stood in complete silence as if sharing a sacred moment, and I felt in debt for what he had given me. I thought I would hand him some money but he quickly disappeared into the shadows of an alley. He wanted nothing from me but left me with his picture to be cherished.
These little things are the moments I believe that are to captured and frozen in time. They hold a different story that should be told to everyone. These images portray real life of the people in my city.
Through these walks around town I have taken photographs of people from the place I call home. Every photograph has its own story to tell. Through these walks I saw my home through the eyes of the common people. These walks not only made me think clearly about my life but also about the people's life around me. The whole world is changing rapidly but Kathmandu is stuck in its old ways, stuck in time.
Through these photographs I want to tell the untold stories of the people of my home town. The things we ignore. I held a photo exhibition titled "Life in Kathmandu". Through this photo exhibition I hoped to bring a change in the people's perspective even if small by showing them what I had seen through my camera lens. To make them care about the people around them. The photo exhibition went for a week and many people attended the exhibition. The untold stories of the unknown people of my home town were finally told.
They say that the only thing constant is change. Even if it is a little change it can have a ripple effect. Even if I can bring a little change in the world, I will be content. By exhibiting these photographs of the people around my home town I was able to aware people about their surrounding and that they too can do their part of changing the world around them for the better.
