Snapshots of time.

While Kash got jiggy doing van-karaoke with Sumit and Amit,


Erwin, Nuria and I caught some shut-eye on the ride out for our New Year's sightseeing trip.


We stopped first at Lothal, where the 4000-year old remains of the ancient Harappan civilisation are preserved.


The place used to be a trading port, but the seas have receded and what remains is a lake-like pool of blue waters. That's Amit and Sumit standing on what used to be a dam.


And here's a shot of the four of us.


Kash was a bit too enthusiastic in scouting for a good shot, and got her foot stuck in Indian quick sand. While the rest of us looked on in amused shock, a good Samaritan gave her a helping hand.


I thought this picture Erwin took of me encapsulated what I've been feeling this past week in India - free, contented and incredibly happy.


This shot is dedicated to the one who introduced me to the beauty of the underside of foliage. It was a sweltering day at the Botanical Gardens and I remember looking on as you took shot after shot while standing under a giant tree of orange leaves. I've gone halfway around the world and yet you still visit me in sleep.


Erwin's aspiring war photojournalist shot. Haha.


The Indian sky's a cloudless, brilliant blue.


India really wouldn't be the India we've heard so much of without a few pictures of cows no?


If you didn't already guess, cows are everywhere, and as much a part of traffic as cars.


See what I mean?


Our next stop was the Nalsarovar Bird Sanctuary.


This was the boat we took out to the lake for bird-watching.


Scenic serenity.




But being the photography buffs we were, we were more interested in snapping pictures of the gorgeous sunsets than sitting back and watching birds swoop.


























Vegetarianism is driving Erwin nuts. Here, he attempts to eat the sun. Probably imagining it as an egg...










Silhouettes of the boatman.





Along with the fading glow of the setting sun, our camera batteries died on us and successfully curbed all urges to whip out our cameras with every picturesque shot. As we drifted on the silent lake for the last ten minutes, I finally stopped looking at the surroundings through the lens. Instead of fighting against time to immortalize the beauty on film, I saw beauty without the need to possess it.

Birds swooping in flocks against the rosy sunset sky, the gentle ripples of the water, and the chill of the approaching night.

I finally understood.

Having a thousand beautiful snapshots are nothing in comparison to a moment's quiet appreciation, and of truly being. I may not have the pictures that captured the last moments of the ebbing sunlight, but I doubt that I would ever forget how it felt like to sit on the lake thinking that there was no place I would rather be.

Transcience. It's beautiful.