Alone, Yet Not Lonely

The Dal Lake

The Dal Lake is my go-to place whenever I am in the valley. From sunrise to sunset, there’s always a frame waiting to be witnessed. I usually drive further down its perimeter, away from the bustle of traffic and tourists, in search of a blissfull boat ride experience. 

The vastness of the water and sky merging on the horizon always evokes a soothing calm I hold close. On one such visit, I noticed a single boat resting quietly on the lake, still against a shifting sky. The setting sun filtered through layers of cloud, breaking into silver ripples across the water. It felt like a moment that demanded to be captured — not in colour, but in monochrome.

I am still finding my way in this form. Stripping a scene of colour — which our eyes are so used to — and still making it compelling is a skill I know will take time to hone. Yet the play of light and shadow, the tones and textures, and the weight of silence in that frame were too tempting to resist. I paused before pressing the shutter, wondering if the drama of the clouds and the solitude of the boat would hold their own without the hues of sunset.

The result, I think, is not bad. Monochrome sharpened the mood — it gave the scene a voice of its own. Alone, yet not lonely: the lake and the light carrying on their quiet conversation, while I had the fortune to listen in.

Every now and then, I turn to monochrome. When the results feel right, they motivate me to keep experimenting — and remind me that simplicity, at times, speaks more powerfully than colour.