Unloading process of Fertilizer and fish feed from incinerator furnace which has been prepared to boil cut/waste leather particles. These units burn and boil shaving dust (byproduct of finished leather products), flesh linings and trimmings to make Fertilizer and fish feed at kashba, Kolkata. The furnaces belch out thick smoke day in and day out, contributing to kolkata's poor air quality.
“I am lost..I am trying to find my mother...I am Shahrukh...Shahrukh Mondal”…
These were the first few words uttered by a 7 year old, when he was rescued by the RPF from Platform No.4 of Sealdah Station, Kolkata, India. As the little child pushed his way through the crowd of thousands of people in the platform, his eyes searching every nook and corner for his mother, his wails and cries got drowned in the noise and din, and finally he was handed over safely to the Sealdah Child-Line by the RPF. A distressed Shahrukh was questioned about his whereabouts, his mother's name, the name of his village, how he lost his way...but Shahrukh only managed to provide the bare minimum information to the social workers of Child-Line; his mother used to stay away from home at night, and his father had left home to settle with some other lady, somewhere far. Thus Shahrukh's new address became the Child-Line home "Uttaran".
Every day the RPF rescues many children from the Sealdah station, some who ran away from their home because of the brutality they face every day, some who have been shown the door by their parents and relatives, some who have been forced to get lost because of poverty in the family, some who were on the verge of being sold for money. Shahrukh began his journey at "Uttaran" with many such kids - Bhola, Krishna, Raihan, Abhijit, Mansoor...Shahrukh started spending his days with his new group of friends. The huge storeroom beside the Platform no. 9, nearly 100 years old, was their shelter. With the help of the railway people and the selfless and loving initiative by a private NGO, Shahrukh became a part of a daily routine. His morning started with prayers, followed by breakfast, studies, playing in the railway tracks and the platform, square meals a day, fun and frolic with friends filled Shahrukh's days with sunshine. The activists at the NGO made conscious efforts to keep the child away from various distractions in and around the platform-antisocial activities, drug scams and various sources of illegal income; children being employed to pick up used and stray bottles from the station for money. In his heart of hearts, Shahrukh used to yearn for his mother, especially on days when it rained. He used to sit in a corner and weep for his mother. He used to miss his village, the moss covered white walls of his house, his pet cat, wet football ground in his school....everything.
As myriad colours filled the sky on the day of Holi, Shahrukh's mind raced down memory lane; last year on the same day his mother had smeared red colored "abir" on his face. As tears streamed down his face, Bhola, Krishna and others rushed to him, held his hand and dragged him to the platform where they all got drenched in the colours, they enjoyed the day of colours in full spirits.
While Shahrukh was spending his days in "Uttaran", the NGO, the RPF were actively involved in trying to find Shahrukh's mother. The nearby police stations had already been informed, and they all prayed for the reunion of the mother and child. After 7 months of tiring efforts made by the NGO, Shahrukh's prayers were finally answered. Shyamali Mondal (Shahrukh's mother) found her son, finally they found each other.
Life is strange and unpredictable. When you just think everything has ended, new doors open. We sail from the grief of losing our loved ones to the joy of getting united with them again, Shahrukh walked away holding his mother's hand to his home in Champahati (North 24 Parganas, West Bengal).
I was a part of Shahrukh's journey of seven months, a part of his memories, his hope, his fear, his love. I still remember the day when Shahrukh's mother had come to take her child; there were tears of joy in the child's eyes and a smile which reflected his inner peace. It seemed he had already started missing his new found friends, Bhola and Mansoor. They were also crying that day, but strange as it was, I could not decipher whether they were crying for Shahrukh or whether they were waiting with hope to hold their mother's hand...maybe someday...maybe some other time.
Widows in India no longer throw themselves on the funeral pyres of their husbands. But life for them can still be hard. Vrindavan is known as "the city of widows".In the communities, a stigma of in auspiciousness is attached to the widow and they are not allowed to participate in family celebrations and functions.Indian widows participate in a celebration of the Holi festival in Vrindavan, Uttar Pradesh. In many parts of India widows are not allowed to celebrate Holi or participate in other festivals.As 'Holi hai' rent the air, amidst 1200 kgs of 'gulal' (coloured powder) and 1500 kilograms of rose and merry gold petals flying in the air, the widows, some shunned by their families and others who have chosen a life in the ashrams voluntarily, forgot all their pains, at least for that moment and broke the 400-year-old tradition and celebrated the festival within the precincts of the ancient Gopinath temple of Vrindaban
The woman is taking her pet in a safe location to save him from flood. When everyone is busy to save themselve, she is taking her pet also with her.This flood in west bengal destroyed a huge numbr of homes but still this type of human heart deserves 100 salute.
Brick Kiln’s Workers
Varanasi, the name rings a plethora of nostalgia and memories of my youth, which I spent as a student of Banaras Hindu University. There couldn’t have been a better place for me than Varanasi during my Formative years as a student of photography.
Varanasi gave me the insight, perspective, and a future to follow my passion of Photography by intuitive twist of fate. The twist of fate remains an inexplicable mystery to myself till this day, as I chose to study photography in Banaras despite the stiff opposition from my family. I do not know, what drove me towards this city despite never having visited the city ever, but the desire was so strong that I chose to be rather disowned by the family for defying their choice and deciding to pursue my studies in Banaras.
Kasi, Banaras or Varanasi is the name of the same city, which has got changed over the annals of antiquity from ancient Vedic texts to Mughal to the Colonial rule. Strangely, it never lost its true fervor with the changing times, and has retained its antique charm alongside the compulsions of Modernity by some mysterious reasons. The tools may have changed but the means remain the same. It is a mystery city, which remains juxtaposed in it more than 4000 years of ancient existence and current modernity. It has shown the will to accommodate the constants of change and yet retained its ancient culture to reemerge into a famous Hindu Pilgrimage Centre. It has inspired many & shall continue to do so to many time travelers like me.
My inspiration to photograph the Brick kiln workers has somewhat been inspired by the fact that when I learnt that the remnants of present Varanasi were unearthed in the area known as Rajghat, pottery and artifacts dating back to 800 BC, suggesting evidence of ancient settlements in the area. The city offers something to everyone, otherwise why would filmmakers like Richard Gardener choose to film their movies in Banaras.
To me the city has given a “perspective”, and to use photography as a means to document the world around, identify with the yet to be explored character of the city. I have tried to capture the frailty of my imagination over the stark reality of the brick kiln worker’s world. I try to interpret the faces of my subjects with the façade that they put to brave the odds against them. They are usually the ignored, overlooked, underprivileged creations of the same creator, who has perhaps just chosen them to reinvigorate our belief in the power of human resilience, patience, and faith by the sheer difficulties thrown by life at them and their power to overcome these difficulties with élan & dignity.
I choose to make a statement to sensitize my audiences about the great privileges that they have in comparison to a larger section of the society and silent appeal at a sub conscious level to arouse their feelings called “ Sharing” . I feel privileged if my photographs manage to stir positive emotions towards these marginalized sections of society. I try to say, their hidden stories, struggles and efforts to live with only available elixir of life called “ faith”.
I chose brick kiln as a subject due to my earthy connection with soil and cultural background, which equates the land as mother and soil as the nurturer of life. Brick kilns being the general view of Indian rural landscape, had always been a part of my curious nature. I wanted to understand what tall chimneys, primitive process of digging and carrying soil by little children on their heads meant? I wanted to know what was the final journey of this soil which robbed small children of their childhood, delicate women of their femininity, animals of their sturdiness, before building a HOME for somebody. It was a heartbreaking revelation to know that most of the brick kiln workers died at an early age due to lung related illnesses as an occupational hazard. I found that it was a journey undertaken by the soil to become a brick, to build a home, consecrated by the people who were ironically HOMELESS, themselves. It was a journey of human helplessness, which brought migrant villagers in search of better future and getting enslaved by the very destiny they wanted to change.
Male black bucks locking horns over mates and territory are not very uncommon in Tal Chappar, but I had wished to photograph one such action moment for a long time specially in rising or setting sun light. This day we had ventured out early morning and reached the spot well before sunrise. As the day begun we saw quite a few males engaged in fights. The challenge was to pick the right pair. I wanted my subject to be backlit so I chose this particular pair stationed myself far off so as not to disturb them and waited for the moment. Composition was the key here. I purposely place my subject in one corner of the frame and included the path of dust. Award winning photographers say that your image should tell a story and that is exactly what I tried to do. By including the trail of dust I could tell my viewers which male was dominating in this particular fight and the light did the rest. It ensured that the dust particles lit up giving a feel of a stage set on fire.
This photo was taken at an Indian brick kiln where the women were transferring bricks from the kiln to he truck standing near by. They were carrying 8-10 bricks on their head at a time. The working condition was quite tough. Dust, coming out from the stacked bricked, was making breathing difficult. I have tried to capture a candid moment of this activity.
This photograph was taken in a small village of Assam name as Bherakuchi,India. It shows a small innocent boy feeding a bird. It explain actual meaning of human life. A true heart limits no love, no matter its human being or animals.
HOLI is the festival of colours where participants play, chase and colour each other with dry colour powder known as Gulal and colour water. From early morning, people from all around the city come and gather at Sawariya Seth Temple, Kolkata to celebrate Holi in front of the idol of Lord Krishna.
An elderly Kashmiri Muslim labour smoke Hubble-bubble (hookah) after finishing a course of wicker sticks which later would be used to make traditional fire-pots called (kanger) locally. The (kanger) varies from small to big in sizes as of human age expensive to inexpensive ones.The Kashmiri people widely use (kanger) during the severe winter months to keep themselves warm.
this photo has been shot at a roadside footpath during Gangasagar Transit camp , a huge gathering of pilgrims during winter in Kolkata , West Bengal .
Here the 'Sadhubaba' ( the old holy man ) is asking for alms in exchange of blessing with a pinch of holy ash .
This photo was taken at Bharatpur bird sanctuary,
Rajasthan, India. i went there on an evening lying
into the water, waiting to capture how pelican
hunted for his prey. i was mesmerized when i
suddenly saw this was happening so i didnt waste a
single second and i got the whole story. this is
one of my favorite frame of the story.
I feel bad when we humans behave like we are the only one who has all the rights to live freely in this world. 'Freedom' and 'Equality' is and basic right for all the species on this planet to live with and we have to respect that.
We feels that we are superior to all than it's our natural responsibility to take care of every others like the eldest member of our family does.
I feels that this whole world and all the species are a family together.
The blackbuck (Antilope cervicapra), also known as the Indian antelope, is an antelope found in India and Nepal. The blackbuck is the sole extant member of the genus Antilope. The species was described and given its binomial name by Swedish zoologist Carl Linnaeus in 1758.
This is the gate of raigad fort situated in konkan region... Reflection in water of the old gate with the new sun.... The gate is a witness of so many great moments ... this all takes us in the historic era....
Diwali celebrations are one of the most awaited time in India. It is known for God Rama's comeback to ayodhya after 14 years. It is considered as triumph of light over darkness. This image i captured at Junagadh, Gujarat.
It's a surprising experience to see pelicans playing in water and sunbasking at Ranganatitu, Karnataka.. This pic was taken when we went on boating and a spot billerpelican came to gobble some water...
This old lady might be cleaning those utensils but the picture really makes one wonder if those utensils have filled her stomach !!
This picture was taken in a village in India, country where more than 20% of world's poor reside.
The bullock race is a very popular event in Eastern India, where the villagers participate with their pair of bullocks. they stand over a ladder that is tied to the bullocks. This man happened to be the winner of the event.
I was exploring Chikul Village,HImachal Pradesh and suddenly i saw some kids playing around .The moment she saw me with the camera she got excited and amazed as its also less likely that tourist visit such places.. I immediately captured her emotions and got lucky.
THE FLORICAN " is large bird in the bustard family . it is endemic to the Indian Subcontinent where it found in tall
Grassland and is best known for the leaping breeding displays made by the males during monsoon season . The species is highly endangered and has been extirpated in some parts.
Dew's pearls Necklaces......As fresh as morning dew they still they on with flowers....flowers reflected in dew droplets its like nature's own very precious dew's pearls....i luv to click dew droplets... i click this photo at Name of Location is manali dh
As fresh as morning dew they still they on with flowers....flowers reflected in dew droplets its like nature's own very precious dew's pearls....i luv to click dew droplets... i click this photo at Name of Location is manali dhamsu village
Camera make : SONYa57
Lens make : Sony macro
Focal length : 30mm
Aperture : f:10
Shutter speed : 1/160
ISO : 100
At the End of Monsoon, Jute is ready for retting in West Bengal, India. Retting is the process of extracting fibers from the long lasting life stem or bast of the bast fiber plants (Jute Plants). After extracting fiber the jute stick is highly used in paper industry. A rural Woman carried away those sticks from the field. The color of Sharee and the beautiful sky complementing each other... The activity and the color forced me to shoot it.
Jim Corbett - One of the famous National Park & favourite place for Elephent. This was captured when a large herd of Elephants just crossed our Path & calmly passed us ... without even noticing us ... That's a focus to destination.
In Ngorongoro Crater we discovered this male kori bustard trying to attract females. During courtship, displays of the males are impressive and elaborate, successfully advertising their presence to potential mates.The males hold their heads backwards, with cheeks bulging, the crest is held erect, the bill open and they inflate their gular pouches, forming a white throat "balloon". During this display the oesophagus inflates to as much as four times its normal size and resembles a balloon.
Found mostly in the grass lands and opens a Green Bee-Eater is spread across Africa and Asia. These mostly found huddled together perched on branch. Primarily feeding on Bee, Honeybees, Dragon fly's and other flying insects, its narrow long black beak is a perfect tool for the job helping it catch its prey. While on a bird photography walk early winter morning, I spotted this little one perched on a branch sun bathing.
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