I’m currently on a lotus eating expedition in Delhi, a city which exasperates and delights me in turns. I spend my mornings reading on the roof sharing a sheet or a mattress companionably with Safera, a greedy soon to be 6 year old Lab-Retriever mix. We both soak up huge doses of Vitamin D post breakfast until the need for bath is felt or called to partake of lunch. Post lunch it’s back to books or a stroll in the park with my brother and our Nikons, spotting shots for one another and stalking birds to shoot. Beauty is often presented in bursts of bright plumage and old forgotten ruins with lovely glimpses of architecture and colour reminiscent of the rich Mughal empire. My sojourns through the neighbourhood park in Jamuna Marg and as of today, in the famous Lodhi Gardens has only brought me unexpected pleasure and never have I been happier in this city of insatiable greed & power than behind my camera watching parakeets, kites, squirrels and peacocks amongst other unknown fauna doing what is becoming near impossible for every one trying to live in this city: living a simple existence. Numerous thoughts flit through my mind as I capture each image, a frozen moment of breathtaking simplicity but the words fall through the cracks of my memory and all I have left are the photographs themselves. Even with the smog, fog and dust, the lush trees, the bird cries and the sunsets are heady. The people are loud, unabashed and perpetually curious and at the same time friendly, inviting and full of conversation. It’s an unusual mixture. Something the introvert in me touches with hesitent smiles but the Londoner in me finds utterly amusing and warm. I have become a fish without a waterbody. I have no city of my own. In London I am an Indian, in India I am an Indian out of 3 years worth of depth. Here are my sights, what my lens shows me of my city of the moment.