Me and Marina is a personal photo series dedicated to my mother, the bond we share and the quiet strength she embodies. Through the lens, I have tried to capture the essence of our connection—a relationship built on love, resilience, and unwavering support.
Each frame is a reflection of her perspective, the way she has seen me grow and navigate the world.Her presence resonates through every image; an innocent protector who has always been there to shield me, yet someone who has also given me the space to chase my curiosity and explore the world freely.
This series is more than a collection of moments; it’s a celebration of her enduring influence on my life. It honors the unspoken gestures, the silent sacrifices, and the profound presence that have shaped me into who I am. “Me and Marina” is my way of saying thank you, a tribute to a love that is both grounding and liberating at the same time.
Slices of Innocence
This photo series is an exploration of innocence in its purest forms—untouched. unguarded. unfiltered.
Through the lens, I capture simplicity and purity—the kind often overshadowed in our hurried lives.
From the quiet beauty of nature to the unspoken trust in the eyes of animals around us, each frame tells a story of vulnerability and wonder from our everyday lives. These images remind us of a world where every interaction is free of pretense, a world where curiosity and trust thrive unencumbered.
It’s a slice of innocence, in a sense—an attempt to hold onto the ephemeral beauty of what it means to be untainted and true. This series is both a reflection and a celebration of the simple, genuine moments that often escape notice but carry profound meaning.
“Ruk,” meaning “stop” in Bhojpuri, is a photo series that attempts to capture the unheard plea of the beings at the moment of slaughter beyond the fortified walls of Gadhimai. More than just a record of this tradition, the photographer seeks to freeze a frame where the animals are still alive—where, if only for a moment, they remain untouched by the blade. Though the killing could not be stopped, in these photographs, the animals live forever. It challenges us to pause, reflect, and question the moral weight of traditions that bring suffering. Through the lens, it freezes the moment in time and asks an unspoken question—what if we could stop this reality?
The series delves into the deeply ingrained cultural practices that many, including myself, have grown up with, yet often choose to overlook. Each frame holds the weight of cruelty and the silence of complicity. From the anxious gaze of animals to the unwavering grip of the butcher’s khukuri, Ruk captures the raw and unfiltered truth of what unfolds behind the walls of the festival. Yet, amidst the bloodshed, there are glimpses of hope—rituals where lives are spared, serving as a stark contrast to the carnage and a reminder of the choices we have as individuals and as a society.
Ruk is not just about witnessing; it is about confronting. It aims to provoke conversations about tradition, morality, and our shared responsibility to question practices that harm voiceless lives. Through these photographs, I hope to create a moment of reflection—one where the viewer, like myself, stops to consider the weight of our actions and the possibilities of change.