When I think back to my time in Fort Kochi during the Kochi-Muziris Biennale, I remember the people before I remember the artworks.
The city was filled with visitors from different parts of the world, moving through galleries, cafés, bookstores, and old streets in search of something that resonated with them. While I spent my days photographing and wandering between venues, I often found myself drawn toward the quieter moments in between.
A shared table. A passing conversation. A familiar smile from a stranger.
These portraits were made during those brief encounters. Some lasted only a few minutes. Others lingered long after we parted ways.
Together, they became one of my most memorable experiences of Fort Kochi.
MAY
I first noticed May because of her bright pink hair, a burst of colour against the quiet, white walls of Pepper House. There was something unhurried about the way she moved through the space, pausing occasionally before an artwork and then moving on.
Curious, I asked if I could make a few portraits, and she graciously agreed. We spoke for a while before disappearing once again into the slow rhythm of the Biennale.
What stayed with me was not the conversation itself, but the image of her moving through the gallery with a sense of wonder and attention. Even now, I find myself wondering what she saw in those artworks and whether they stayed with her long after she left Fort Kochi.
BENIGNA
I met Benigna and her daughter while sharing a table during a quiet afternoon at the Pepper house. At eighty-two, she carried herself with an ease and curiosity that immediately drew me in.
Our conversation wandered through memories, travel, and the changing character of the city. She spoke about visiting Fort Kochi for decades now and how much had transformed since then. Yet she found comfort in the buildings that remained, standing quietly through the passing years.
There was something reassuring about her presence. The kind that makes you slow down and listen. By the time we parted ways, it felt less like meeting a stranger and more like crossing paths with someone whose stories had briefly become part of my own journey.
IGORR
I met Igorr at the hostel where I was staying during the Biennale. He looked tired, as though the journey itself had become part of the story he was carrying with him.
What began as a casual conversation quickly turned into one of those rare exchanges that feels both effortless and meaningful. We spoke about travel, the ways people find common ground despite coming from entirely different worlds, and the importance of preserving and respecting our mother tongues.
The details of our conversation have faded with time, but I still remember how present he was in that moment. Sometimes a brief encounter leaves a deeper impression than relationships built over years. We knew we might never meet again, yet the memory of that conversation remains.
CELINE
I first noticed Celine at the famous Idiom Book Sellers in Fort Kochi. There was something familiar about her the moment I turned around and saw her smiling politely in response to the owners of the bookshop.
Perhaps it was her eyes that reminded me of my grandmother. Perhaps it was the kindness she carried so naturally. Whatever it was, I felt compelled to introduce myself and ask if I could make a portrait.
As we spoke, I was struck by how effortlessly she conversed in English. At one point, I asked about the watch she was wearing. It had belonged to her husband. She had spent more than two decades working at the bookstore and had experienced more loss than most people should ever have to endure.
Yet what I remember most is her smile. Quiet, gentle, and enduring.
I travelled to Fort Kochi hoping to experience the Biennale but what really stayed with me were the people.
Years later, I remember very little of the conversations word for word. What remains are fragments: a smile, a shared table, a watch, a passing thought, a portrait made between strangers.
Perhaps that is what travel leaves us with. Not just memories of places, but traces of the people we met along the way. I cannot wait to experience more through different cultures and people.
