Mirror and shutter

07/08/2026

The scars are stories the world never heard:

I have been waiting for a face to capture. He catch my sight at Bangalore. I seek his permission to frame his face on my wall. He agreed with a folding hand.
I don’t know there was tears in his eyes, when I sat near to him and touched his shoulders.

❤️

24/07/2026

10/07/2026

Monsoon- Rain Soaked paths:

Night travels only
along the paths
that daylight has illuminated.

Beneath a sky
blazing crimson and gold,
darkness lies deep and still.

The rain,
wrapped in the embrace of the wind,
bursts forth
in jubilant celebration,
its joyous chorus
echoing…!

📸

22/06/2026

Reflections

Rain has its own music,
its own timeless rhythm — Megh Malhar 🎶
It softly touches the strings of our hearts,
awakening memories wrapped in nostalgia.

Rain carries a beauty unlike any other;
when it kisses the earth,
it paints new patterns upon the soil
and weaves fleeting stories in every drop.
In every splash, every shimmering surface,
it creates a world anew —
a thousand reflections,
mirroring dreams, memories, and the soul itself…

18/04/2026

Traditional bullfighting in Oman dates back more than a century. Some believe the practice originated from Portuguese influence during the 16th to 18th centuries, while others suggest it was introduced through Spanish connections. In either case, it is likely that the tradition was shaped by European influence.

Unlike bullfighting in other parts of the world, the Omani version is bloodless and does not involve killing. Instead, it is a display of strength and power, where two bulls compete by locking horns. The contest typically ends when one of the bulls retreats, often avoiding serious injury.

📸

22/03/2026

Not far beyond the horizon, the world trembles—
scarred by the hands that once vowed to shape and guard it. Leaders, cloaked in power, test their might—
measuring reach, weighing ruin, and rehearsing destruction.
A sacred month of quiet devotion has slipped by,
woven with prayer, surrender, and stillness.
In turning away from the noise of endless ties,
I found refuge in the whisper of the earth—
where silence heals, and the soul remembers.
Far from the madding crowd,
peace was not sought… it was found.

23/12/2025

Winter and dreams:
An evening in winter near the harbor, where the sea meets the city and the sky comes alive with wings of dreams.
❤️