t was just another casual day in Delhi—I had no plans, just my camera and the streets. As a photographer, I often find joy in wandering with no destination, letting the city speak to me through its people, its chaos, its quiet corners.
Someone messaged me: “You’re in Delhi and you’re not visiting Jama Masjid?”
That sentence lingered in my mind. Though I’m Hindu by birth, I’ve always believed in the beauty of all religions—their stories, their energy, and their architecture. So I thought, Why not?
It was evening by the time I reached Jama Masjid. The sun was slipping into dusk, and the entire atmosphere was slowly transforming. People were preparing for the evening prayers. There was a peaceful urgency in the air—children running, vendors wrapping up, and a sea of believers gathering.
Then, just like that, the lights turned on.
In that moment, I stood still.
Before me was not just a mosque, but a masterpiece—glowing domes, shimmering minarets, and the delicate hum of devotion surrounding it all. It was no longer just a structure of bricks and marble—it was a reflection of human creativity, belief, and peace.
I visualized a shot in my mind—a reflection that would mirror the harmony I felt in my heart. I started looking for a spot and finally found a puddle at the perfect angle. It was fleeting—just a few minutes before the light changed or someone walked past. I crouched down, aligned my frame, and clicked.
Later, while editing, I stayed true to the mood I had witnessed—warm lights, soft contrasts, a hint of mystery, and overwhelming calm. I wanted the photo to speak exactly what I felt:
This is not just a monument. This is a moment.
