Shajanram is a frail little person in his late eighties. Yet he moves gracefully, with the agility of a nearby desert antelope. The thick round glasses lying on his aquiline nose magnify the darkness of his black, almond-shaped eyes. The white beard and long moustache match the uniform colour of his shirt, dhoti, and turban. His smile is spontaneous, frequent and highly infectious, as his kindness.
He bows in respect to welcome guests in the home that he shares with his four sons, their wives and a total of twelve healthy and cheerful grandchildren. Shajanram does not speak a word of English. His facial expressions genuinely convey his feelings, passing through no filter, no social barrier. For the rest, a guide translates his sacred speech.
The familiar whistle of the locomotive announces its slow approach to the impatient crowd waiting on the platform. The Khambli Ghat station...
I seek out the Kalari Kovilakom, a palace in which the austerity of an ashram is transformed into the comfortable...
This journey traces the legacies set in stone, of empires that ruled the Deccan across the classical and medieval periods of history...
Get a glimpse into the travelling photography workshop we executed with Gentl & Hyers in North India, spanning seven cities...
Amidst the lush greenery on the banks of a river, is a palace surrounded by Mughal gardens...
Earlier this year, during the summer month of April, Elke Frotscher travelled with us and a crew of photographers to Tamil Nadu...