A calm eye for what can't be repeated.

I grew up between two worlds — an Indian household full of music, colour and ceremony, and a quiet Norwegian winter outside the window. Photography became the way I made sense of both. The loud and the still. The festival and the morning after.

I started with a borrowed film camera, shooting friends and family at weddings I'd been invited to as a guest. People kept asking for the photos back, and somewhere along the way that turned into a craft, then a calling. Years later I'm still here, still shooting film alongside digital, still chasing the same thing: a frame that feels less like a picture and more like a memory you already had.

My favourite work tends to live in the in-between — the moment before the first dance, the cousin laughing into a sleeve during Anand Karaj, a mother fixing her daughter's dupatta one last time. I show up early, I stay late, and I try to disappear in between.