आई

Photography

Aai means mother in Marathi. This is a photo series about mine, shot at home on ordinary days. It stays close to her hands, because that is where most of her love gets spent: rolling dough, packing a tiffin, shelling peas. It ends on the things she keeps for herself, her wedding saree, her first watch, her yoga and her singing. Nine frames of the person the whole house quietly runs on.

  1. A woman in silhouette standing at a barred window, plants and daylight behind her

    Against the light

    She is barely in this one. An outline against the window grill, curry leaves and morning behind her. It is how most of us see our mothers: always there, rarely looked at properly. This series is me trying to look.

  2. Two hands rolling out a large round of dough on a wooden board, flour dusted on the counter

    Measured by hand

    No recipe, no measuring cup. Her hands know the size of a bhakri the way they know the way home. Flour on the knuckles, the rolling pin worn smooth where she holds it.

  3. A hand pressing flatbread onto a tawa, an omelette cooking in a pan behind it

    Every flame in use

    Something on every burner and her palm flat on the hot tawa like it is nothing. I have watched this a thousand times and I still flinch. She never does.

  4. Hands sliding a stacked steel tiffin into a canvas lunch bag

    Packed and sent

    Every dabba goes out full and comes back empty, and that is the whole conversation. There is never a note inside. The food is the note.

  5. Hands shelling green peas into a small steel bowl, pods heaped on newspaper

    Yesterday's news

    Afternoon work. Peas shelled one pod at a time over an old newspaper, the steel bowl filling slowly. The kind of patience nobody ever thanks anyone for.

  6. Her folded yellow and maroon wedding saree above a framed photograph of her wearing it

    Folded and kept

    Her wedding saree, folded with care, and a photograph of her wearing it. Some things in the cupboard are clothes. This one is a whole day, and every year that came after it.

  7. Her first wristwatch, small and worn, with a black dial and cracked leather strap

    Her time

    Her first watch, a gift from her brother Yogesh. The strap has cracked and the glass has clouded, and it is still the one on her wrist. It keeps her time, most of which she has quietly given to us.

  8. Her hand resting on her knee in a yoga mudra, thumb and forefinger touching, over a printed cotton dress

    A minute to herself

    She loves her yoga. Eyes closed, fingers resting in a mudra, the house briefly not her problem. The few quiet minutes in her day that belong to nobody else.

  9. Her practising singing in an orange kurta and glasses, an open notebook on her lap, one hand raised mid phrase

    Something of her own

    She loves to sing. Notebook open, pencil ready, one hand keeping time as she practises. Everything else in this series is something she does for us. This one is hers.

Next project

Coca-Cola Ad

3D-rendered Coca-Cola can, close-up with condensation