Something always falls down, 
rain, snow, or the leaves from a tree.
Transitioning and carrying us 
to a town on the hill,
Where the clock differs for us to belong
In the night of falling thoughts.


Falls

You are left with endless time and no faces to recognize, but you can't live with certainty of being undefined even in this fictious world.

Withered #15/100

Sometimes the hills and the strange labyrinth of trees in rain reminds me of a quote by Om Malik - 
'I like the muted sounds, the shroud of grey, and the silence that comes with fog.'

I took this photograph in the hills of Shimla.

Size     -      4000 * 5696 px

Meet Me Halfway

Reminiscing or Remembrance?

Memories - The ones that made your whole life, now aches on the surface of your conscious. 
Should you hold on to the them or let go of the sufferings and comforts?

The essential stairway of recollecting life.



Remembrance

Withered #12/100

The sun drains the inner rays,
while the women roams in the sunny days,
The dunes pave way for this source of power,
For she has come a long way 
and has to go on for some million hours.

I took this photograph on the Dunes of Jaisalmer
Size  -  4000 * 6000 px

DUNE

𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋

𝖜𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖉𝖟

BLUDCULT

A Town on the Hill

Withered #6/100

A series of photographs with editions by Ashmit Galav. 

Ashmit Galav - Editions

When no one's there for you, don't pity yourself. You're just like a moon, you shine alone. And when every time you wonder you're not good enough and there's no place for you, just remember that a night sky with billions of stars is still empty without a moon. So never limit yourself. Be proud of who you are. Cause you are more than enough.
Shine bright, Moon child.

Size  -  4000 * 6000 

ashmit

ashmit

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