Framed in: What if you were the last man on this earth? Would you still gaze out of the window, staring at the emptiness as if nothing matters?
Perhaps, I would, only if I found myself in a village tucked away in the mountains. Because up there, amidst the calm and tranquillity, there’s a time for everything. A time to look out the window, a time to watch children returning from school, a time to dip your feet into the icy waters of a rivulet running through the village.
There’s even time to converse with falling leaves, though neither of us might understand each other’s language. A time to enjoy the birds’ chirping as they share secrets of the world around us. A time to sip a steaming cup of hot tea as the world pauses briefly. A time to listen to the music of nature and the silences in between.
In the mountains, time feels frozen in the chillness of the air. Life moves to a different rhythm—slow yet profound. You never feel guilty for sitting on the edge of a rock and staring at the valley below for hours. Spending the night stargazing by a makeshift fireplace of dry twigs is no sin. Sunsets that paint the horizon with a dance of colors are events no one misses to witness. Life is savored in its fullest in those parts of the world.
Up in the mountains, an ethereal music emanates from the distant swaying trees, their notes cutting through the damp mist. Silence, omnipresent and shared by the skies, intertwines with the chill in the air, cloaked in mystery. Mystical stories whispered by hidden waterfalls drift across the landscape, their secrets buried in unreachable heights.
To hear those stories, to feel the rhythm of this life, one must break free from the shackles of time and be willing to look out of the window expecting nothing. That is when everything flows toward you, seeking you out.
What do you see when you look out of your window?
Framed Out: Mountains or beaches? A question often asked. But for me, that question never exists. While I do enjoy beaches, nothing can replace my deep connection with the mountains. They have a way of telling me I belong there. It’s in the mountains that I feel complete. So, when in mountains my energy doubles up and makes me feel lighter and helps me fly, literally!
This picture was taken in 2017 in a small village called Nashala near Manali, about 5 km from the Naggar Haveli. A winding road, climbing through snow-clad pine forests, leads to this sleepy, unassuming village. In and around Manali, there are a number of small villages like Nashala boasting breathtaking views. It’s in places like these, with their narrow alleys, traditional log houses featuring stone-tiled roofs and carved wooden balconies, the distant snow clad Himalayan mountains creating a pictue perfect backdrop, that the true beauty of a hill station comes alive. As travelers, we often forget to explore such spaces, distracted by overcrowded and overhyped tourist destinations.
I shot this particular photo during the second schedule of the film Habeeb, a project that will always hold a special place in my heart. The first schedule in Afghanistan had been eventful, and the challenges continued. On that morning in Nashala, I had a bad fall, injuring my right knee. We had to shoot a chase and fight sequence for which we had selected Nashala as our location. We had shot the sequences running up to the chase and fight the day before. And there was no way we could cancel the shoot that day as we were running out of time.
Despite the pain, I found myself walking through the village with a make shift walking stick in hand, scouting locations alongside the fight master. That’s when I stumbled upon this frame—a man, bothered about nothing and in his own world, gazing out of the window of a traditional log house with walls alternating between Deodar timber and Himalayan stones. The sight felt almost surreal, as if the moment had been waiting for me. Clicked with my OnePlus One, this pic captures the essence of the tranquility that envelops him. At the very moment, I became one with him and the chaos of our production faded into the background.
A good picture speaks to you—it tells stories, evokes emotions, and lingers long after you’ve captured it. This one certainly did. And every now and then, this picture urges me to go back to the mountains!
Grey Frames : “Mountains are the beginning and the end of all natural scenery.” John Ruskin
