Road | PRASHANTT RAI cinematographer

Munich

…The first class coach, though luxurious, was empty. The only occupants beside the conductor were a wiry old man in a black jacket and I. He appeared fitter than most people his age. His grace lay not in his straight spine but in the smooth gray [...]

Running out of Oil, India!

First the transporters’ strike and then came the oil companies PSUs strike. Till last evening the situation didn’t look so alarming. Mumbai’s roads look different today. Marked reduction in traffic and many gas stations are shut. Autos and Taxis were the first to get hit. However, there may be a few stations on the highways, [...]

crimson sky

A mother walks with her baby past hutments along a narrow road that leads to the Candolim Beach.

The photograph was taken in the month of March, towards the end. The skies are very hot and clear. surprisingly, as a local development, it rained in the afternoon. when the clouds finally cleared around sunset [...]

Kasmir Pics

trying to get through a really slow connection to upload pictures of Kashmir.

refer ‘photography’ page

’11 Weeks’ – the film shoot. Part-1

Srinagar greeted with a dry autumn and deserted streets. The tourists who thronged the markets and shikaras a few months back were missing. As a photographer I felt like the streets, the landscape too was barren, with a veneer of gritty yellowy dust all over compared to the lush greens three months back.

to read [...]

Qutubdinpura, Srinagar

Cafe Leopold

Café Leopold

Leopold is where the mayhem seems to have started on the fateful night of 26th Nov. The terrorists fired indiscriminately before hurling a grenade in the popular joint frequented by westerners, the office crowd, and the youngsters. The terrorists left the scene creating chaos and panic on [...]

Permalink

Sorrento

Excerpts from The Pheromone Scent Trail .

Over a period, I discovered their passion for scooters, which they had harboured [...]

the pheromone scent trail

The woman eventually got up to go to the washroom. When she passed me, I saw the fat man had ample reason for vicarious enjoyment. She wore a suffocating tight pair of tiger skin leotards. A thong parted her generous hips. Her tank top ended provocatively short of her navel, and she swayed awkwardly, her baby tucked carelessly under an arm. The fat man loved the exhilarating parade, couldn’t control himself. The moment she disappeared into the washroom, he clapped and laughed gutturally, tears rolling down his lecherous cheeks. He cupped both hands into a hollow and looked at me meaningfully, hinting at a pair of something. What something? A pair of eyes, ears, tits, or cheeks? What? Cheeks, he clarified later. [...]