Eyes, they can talk.

Age of Innocence

Met her in the Pune local to Lonavala. This tiny-tot came to me asking for money. Danced to the bucket-beats, and performed a summer-salt. In the end, she earned what she had come for. And in return posed for a photo, with not a smile but innocence in her eyes.

Eyes, they can talk. 

Like the cliché goes, with eyes one’s true feelings can be seen. They tell a story, they describe the person. Their happiness, their fear, their sadness. She was extremely happy when I took this. Her eyes express the glee.

From the pages of Harry Potter

At 11, we all waited for our Hogwarts letter. Hoping that Dumbledore would call us someday. Had dreams where we are witches and wizards, and help Harry, Ron and Hermione with the mess they go through. Attend Severus Snape’s classes, and defeat you-know-who in the Battle.

It is more than a form of art.

Dance. It’s not just an art. For the audience it tells a story; for the performers, it’s passion. It’s a hobby. It sets a mood. Depicts emotions. Like here, this is the dance of rage.

The Indian Delicacy

The sizzles of the Paneer Tikka paste cooking. The fire trying to reach out from the hot coal and brushing the bell peppers black, and making the Paneer crisp to bite. This is one very common delicacy at Indian Weddings, and a lot of family dinners.

We all have that one friend.

They were posing for every two-legged man who came to get a picture clicked with them. Sitting on the branch and chirping people to have a picture of themselves. And when it happened, and two were ready with a pose, the third was busy with itself. May be grooming for the photo.