Unseeing

joy of the present moment

joy of the present moment

Mama was on the phone. She sounded much calmer, more like Baba,I have seldom heard that tone of voice. She is usually anxious about everything. After his passin...
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Mama was on the phone. She sounded much calmer, more like Baba,I have seldom heard that tone of voice. She is usually anxious about everything. After his passing something in her has changed,me and her we have know eachother all our lives. I am physically her,my cells are as much hers as they are mine.Yet.
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camera

Canon EOS 750D

settings

settings

Aperture f/10 ISO 200 Shutter 1/200 Focal Length 34/1

location

location

Kathmandu, , NP

upload_date

upload_date

Mar, 2019

Views

220

Likes

+59

Awards

Peer Award

+20

Superb Composition

Outstanding Creativity

Top Choice

Absolute Masterpiece

Superior Skill

Genius

All Star

Emotions

Impressed

Categories

👍🏾

It tells the moving story behind this image...great capture, Prasanna!

Hi Daisy,thank you for visiting my gallery-really appreciate the comments. 😊

😊😁

You know, she knows. Unseen yet easily seen. If you know. 😊

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Same photographer See all

Red Chilli

By recording im trying to make sense of it all..

Every movement fills itself up with self doubt as though every cell of my body were made up of some kind of dark energy that regulates itself. Just th

hands

Kathmandu is a dystopian paradise. As you walk its streets, you will find beauty and decay laced around each other like a fabric made out of many disc

I have always imagined a plant grow,never seen it.

at a street festival everyones got a board smile across their faces

The arrangements of petals is repetitive and complex. I only notice the spider in the image after uploading it onto the computer.

that part of the architecture whose purpose is wholly functional-here time is naught.

we think of a door,
we think of an opening into another world.
Khul jaa..Sim..Sim

They are soft cotton dolls I received on the ocassion of my marriage.Like all good work of art they are an attempt at imitating reality.

There are tree huggers and climbers, some of us sit under a tree,some paint trees. There is a mango tree,a coconut tree,a birch tree.The Plane is my f

Have many more wrong doors have you got to go through?

Forcing myself up I sit on the bed’s edge.The room is dark and its contents of strewn clothes, a pile of books, yesterday’s Evening Standard enter

Color makes our world true.

I am away for a few days,when I get back, the onion and garlic is spreading out.

The city is made up of thousands of lybrinthine alleyways.

We dream our lives and live in it forever.

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