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The colonnade was still. One last breath of light moved between the stone pillars and found her—the princess seated in silence, her hands not raised but waiting. The women approached with what could not be seen, only sensed. Behind her, the bearers of her palanquin stood without motion, each gesture carved into stillness centuries ago.

I had walked this gallery before, passed this scene without stopping. But that evening, something opened. The sandstone held the light differently, as if it had chosen to receive. It wasn’t brilliance, it was presence—something quiet, weightless, complete.

I set the tripod without sound. I wasn’t seeking to frame the composition; I was listening. The exposure began like a held breath. I remember thinking: the light has come not to illuminate, but to offer itself. I stood there, unmoving, until the shutter whispered closed.

Later, I shaped the image in the quiet of the studio, not to recreate the scene, but to honour it. The tones emerged slowly, the shadows deepened as if they had always been waiting. And when I lifted the final print into the golden bath, the light returned—not as memory, but as blessing.

gold light on still stone
a gift placed in open hands
the sun bows to her


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