Photo-stories

“All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.”
― Susan Sontag

Saranya Ganguly‘s photostory: The Eyes Are Not Here

The abstraction and subversion in the lines of the poem, “The Hollow Men” by T.S. Eliot becomes the subject of the artist’s vision. The poem as we see now is not just about life after death. It is about the defeated scenes of humanity, of the lost values of human life. What the struggles of…

Debarghya Dey‘s photostory: O Mother

From his childhood days, the artist has always heard tales about Maa kali’s bravery, wisdom, fierceness and divinity. But growing up in a society where women are always expected to behave, dress up, look and speak a certain way he has realised that how this fierce form of “Adi Shakti” shatters the conventional image of…

Ishan Kohli‘s photostory: Through My Eyes

#1: Entrance When you search for the name Nithari on the internet, you will find nothing, but articles related to the serial killings that took place in the village 16 years ago. I decided to go to the village myself and have a look at how it looks like in the present day. What I…

Namrata Sarma‘s photostory: Human Stamp On A Fluid Riverine Territory – A Visual Story of Bhahmaputra’s “Char-Chaporis”

The Brahmaputra, the central river of Assam in Northeast India, is a water body known for reshaping the geography of its floodplains frequently due to ecological occurrences like the annual monsoon floods. The Brahmaputra and its tributaries braid through the State of Assam, shaping the ecological, cultural and social needs of the region and its…

Koushik Saha‘s photostory: Hungrealist

The hunger, to survive with food and shelter, the primary needs of a human life, more often than not brings us down to an animalish existence.  We scavenge for food, we share spaces which are inhabitable for the human kind and yet we live. Yet those unspeakable conditions of life does not take away from…

Irina Tall‘s photostory: Kitty

Earrings hung like golden pretzels on her palm, she squeezed them and they crumbled into fragments, injured her palm and flowed out along with blood. Footsteps were heard behind. -Why do not you go? -No strength. She moved up in her chair. – Don’t, I won’t sit down, I’ll stand next to you. He handed…

Irina Tall‘s photostory: Girl And Her Dreams

Where are you? Why did we go there Echo, like a piercing bird, responded to her, began to drum on the vaults somewhere in the depths of the cave … The White Sirin was cast out on a boat, a ghost in grey robes was sitting near the karma, the face of the mask was…