where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.

where the river forgets itself - As a photographer arriving in Delhi from outside the city, I was first drawn to the Yamuna River by its sacred legacy a river revered in scriptures, songs, and rituals, flowing through the spiritual and mythological heart of India. What I encountered, however, was both haunting and humbling. The contrast between its divine status and its deteriorated condition was stark. Over the years, my lens has traced the length of this contradiction photographing not only the river’s surface but the layers of history, neglect, resilience, and humanity woven into its flow.