Yanesh Tyagi

  Onam in the office, 2010 - where work paused and togetherness began. Onam Sadhya in Our Office – A Memory from 2010 That Still Warms My Heart There are some photographs that blur with time, and then there are some that become gentle anchors, pulling us back to a moment filled with warmth, people, and belonging. This picture from 2010 is one of those for me.

  Stone relief at Mahabalipuram, capturing the ancient Pallava storytelling tradition through myth, movement, and devotion carved into living rock. There are places where history speaks softly, and then there are places where it stands before you, carved into living rock, telling its story without a single word. My visit to Mahabalipuram brought me face to face with one such masterpiece, and I stood there longer than I expected, simply absorbing the weight of time. The stone relief you see above is part of the great sculptural wonder often associated with two overlapping legends, Arjuna’s Penance and The Descent of the Ganga . What struck me most was not just the mythic scale of the story but the way the ancient Pallava artisans brought it to life with emotion, movement, and unbelievable skill.

Throwing it back to 2010 and the timeless beauty of Kumbalangi. The way those reflections hit the water is everything. I can almost feel the sun and the breeze. 😌 #Throwback #KumbalangiTrip #Nostalgia #KeralaVibes #LandscapePhotography #TravelMemories A Glimpse of Serenity: My Kumbalangi Trip Just stumbled upon this gem from my archives and it instantly transported me back to the tranquil backwaters of Kumbalangi. This shot was taken on a sunny Saturday, November 20, 2010, at around 12:38 PM. Can you believe it's been that long? Good old SAMSUNG GT-S8500 did a pretty decent job capturing the moment, even if it was "only" 1.9 MP! This picture perfectly encapsulates the peaceful vibe of Kumbalangi. The row of vibrant green and golden palm trees standing tall along the water's edge, their reflections mirroring perfectly in the calm backwater, is just breathtaking. There's something so calming about the clear blue sky overhead, offering a beautiful contrast to the lu...

  A Quiet Moment in the Heart of Mysore Palace Standing in this sunlit courtyard of Mysore Palace, I felt time loosen its grip. The world outside, with all its noise and urgency, seemed to dissolve the moment I stepped into this space framed by arches, carved pillars, and stories too old to be spoken loudly. The courtyard is open and peaceful, almost shy in contrast to the grandeur of the palace façade that surrounds it on all four sides. The intricately designed arches look like frozen waves, each curve holding a century of craftsmanship. Pale green stained glass catches the light gently, adding a soft glow to the otherwise earthy palette of stone and wood. What struck me the most was the spiral staircase on the right. Black, ornate, mysterious, it rises like a question—where does it lead, and who might have climbed it in another era? There is something poetic about its delicate patterns against the strength of the palace walls. It feels like an invitation and a secret at the same...

  A slow morning in Pallivasal, wrapped in sunlight and silence. The forest behind me felt alive, breathing its quiet wisdom into the day. Pallivasal, Idukki Pallivasal, Idukki — the hidden green cradle between Munnar and Vattavada. A place where the hills whisper and time moves gently. Pallivasal is more than a green patch hidden in the folds of Idukki. It carries a quiet but significant place in Kerala’s history. Pallivasal was the site of Kerala’s first hydroelectric power station , built in the late 1930s during the erstwhile Travancore kingdom. But Pallivasal is not defined by industry alone. Long before these modern feats, it was a region of dense shola forests and tribal settlements. Communities like the Muthuvan people lived in harmony with the land, moving with the rhythm of seasons, cultivating small patches of hill slopes, and protecting sacred groves. Many of the forest trails we walk today were originally their paths. Pallivasal, Idukki — A Quiet Moment from December...

  Standing here on NH-1 , with the milestone to Nimmu beside me, I feel as if I am pausing inside a living textbook of Himalayan history. The cold desert wind carries a silence that is not empty, it is layered with centuries of movement — traders, monks, armies, caravans, explorers, and now, modern travelers like me who come searching for something deeper than just scenic beauty. Nimmu , just eight kilometers from where I am sitting, is not just a village. It has been a strategic and cultural node on ancient trans-Himalayan routes for hundreds of years. This stretch of NH-1, which looks barren and still today, once connected Ladakh to Kashmir, Central Asia, Baltistan, and Tibet . Caravans would stop at Nimmu before making the dangerous climb toward Leh or crossing the Zanskar river. The landscape would have looked just as stark then, but life here was shaped by movement, trade, and diplomacy. Behind me rise the brown, layered mountains of Ladakh, carved by wind and time. They look...