One evening near Simla Kalibari, I stood watching a winterline: a horizontal band of mauve-scarlet-and-black cloud-slash giving the impression of another horizon behind a sinking crimson sun, its colour brought into vivid display by the velvety dusk.
It gradually faded. Just then a photographer came my way.
“I recorded this wondrous spectacle with you in focus. You’re completely merged with the scene,” she said.
She brought to mind a pic featuring a shutterbug taking a shot of Taj Mahal in the distance, not aware of himself being shot by another lensman.
The only difference: I relied on my camera within.
It gradually faded. Just then a photographer came my way.
“I recorded this wondrous spectacle with you in focus. You’re completely merged with the scene,” she said.
She brought to mind a pic featuring a shutterbug taking a shot of Taj Mahal in the distance, not aware of himself being shot by another lensman.
The only difference: I relied on my camera within.
