Held her children
In her arms both stretch;
Impeccable are her children
Held her name high.
In harmony were the love and peace
Between her and them.
They proudly shout in unison,
Oh! My mother INDIA!
May the love exist between us
Forever and beyond the horizon.
Sometimes I think about how a photograph, a sentence, and a film cut all carry the same silence. They pause the world just enough for you to notice it. It was never just one thing for me. Video Editing, yes. But also writing. Then photography. Filmmaking. Design. And Motion graphics. They’ve all taken turns shaping how I see. They seemed separate at first, but the more I practiced them, the more they started to talk to each other. Graphic design showed me how space breathes. Photography taught me stillness - the kind that feels almost meditative, like the world holding its breath for a second. Editing gave me rhythm, the heartbeat of a story. Motion graphics showed me that even type can move like a dancer. Cinematography taught me to listen to light. And writing gave me the language to make sense of it all. It stitched together the quiet lessons of each craft, turning them into thoughts I could hold. Once you touch different disciplines, they stop behaving like isolated islands. A ...
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