Tag Archives: Nature Photography

Slow Mind, Soulful Stills – Mahendra Bakle

Mahendra Bakle is a travel and documentary photographer from India whose work captures cultural stories and human connection across Asia. His images—often set in remote villages—blend natural light, emotion, and authenticity to reflect the soul of a place. Previously featured on our On The Horizon section, he’s now an internationally acclaimed artist featured in publications like National Geographic and more. Asian Photography caught up with him, talking about the evolution of his work, travel lessons, underrated skills and more. Excerpts:

How would you introduce yourself to someone who’s never heard of your work? 

I’m a travel and documentary photographer from India. My work focusses on capturing  cultural stories, traditions, and people in their natural environments, typically in remote and  lesser-known regions across Asia. I’m especially drawn to moments where light, texture, and  human emotion intersect. I spend time getting to know the people I photograph, typically sharing conversations, tea, or even laughter before lifting the camera. This approach helps me create authentic, respectful portrayals of the soul of a place and its people. 

But, at the core, I remain a curious traveller with a deep love for culture, light, and storytelling through the lens. 

How have you and your work evolved over the years? 

Over the years, both my photography and my personal perspective have evolved in profound  ways. When I first started, I was focussed mainly on capturing beautiful moments — interesting  faces, scenic places, or striking compositions. But as I travelled more, especially through  remote villages and culturally rich regions across Asia, I realised that the real power of  photography lies in storytelling and human connection. 

I’ve grown from being a silent observer to an engaged documentarian. Now, I spend more  time understanding the people I photograph—their lives, traditions, and daily rituals. That  connection reflects in my work, which has become more intimate, emotionally layered, and  culturally grounded. 

I’ve evolved technically as well. My editing style has become more refined—natural tones,  subtle light enhancements, and a focus on preserving authenticity. Tools like Lightroom and  Photoshop have helped, but the biggest change was internal: I’ve learned to slow down, wait for the right moment, and let the story reveal itself rather than chase it. 

Each image today feels less like a photo and more like a conversation—a small but powerful  bridge between cultures. That’s the evolution I’m most proud of. 

What’s the earliest lesson travel has taught you, and is it still relevant today? 

One of the earliest and most important lessons travel taught me is humility—the  understanding that no matter how much you know, there’s always more to learn from the  world and its people. When I first began travelling for photography, I would enter a place with a camera and curiosity. But very quickly, I realised that true stories don’t come to you unless you slow down, listen, and approach every place and person with deep respect. 

While sitting with a tribal elder in Nagaland or sharing coffee with a monk in Myanmar, I learned that being present and open-hearted reveals far more than any guidebook ever could. That lesson remains just as relevant today—if not more—especially in a world where things move fast and surface-level interactions are common. For me, meaningful photography still begins with humility, patience, and respect. These are timeless values, both in life and in art. 

Has Instagram changed your perspective about photography? 

Yes, Instagram has definitely influenced my perspective—both in positive and challenging  ways. In the beginning, it pushed me to be more consistent with my work, to develop a recognisable style, and to curate how I present stories. It helped me connect with photographers and cultures around the world, and brought my work to people I would have never reached otherwise. That visibility has opened doors to exhibitions, collaborations, and even meaningful conversations with strangers who resonated with an image. 

However, I’ve also had to be careful not to let the platform dictate my vision. With the  constant pressure to post, chase engagement, or follow trends, it’s easy to lose sight of why we begin in the first place. I’ve learned to use Instagram as a tool to share, not perform—to stay true to the slower, more intentional documentary style that defines my work, even if it doesn’t always follow the algorithm. 

My core values in photography — storytelling, authenticity, and connection—remain unchanged even with the challenge that Instagram has presented. 

With photography becoming more democratized now, what’s the most underrated skill  newcomers ought to focus on? 

In today’s world, almost anyone can take a beautiful picture—cameras are smarter, editing  tools are more accessible, and inspiration is everywhere. Amidst all this, I think the most  underrated skill is developing and staying true to your own unique visual style and voice. 

When I look back at my journey, what set my work apart wasn’t just technique—it was the  consistency in how I saw and told stories. For me, that meant focussing on natural light,  human connection, cultural authenticity, and subtle, respectful colour tones. It took time to  discover that voice, and even more discipline to protect it from trends and algorithms. 

Newcomers often try to replicate popular styles for quick attention, but I believe true growth  comes from shooting what you genuinely care about, again and again, until your work begins  to speak for you—even without a caption. 

So yes, learn the technicals, explore platforms, be inspired—but also spend time  understanding what moves you, and allow that to shape your photography. That’s what will  make your work stand out in the long run. 

How do you think one can stay curious after mastering the basics? 

I stayed curious by remembering why I started photography in the first place—not just to make technically perfect images. Even after mastering the basics, I still approach every assignment or journey with the mindset of a student. Curiosity grows when you step out of your comfort zone—whether it’s visiting a new place, learning from someone else’s process, or even trying to see the familiar with fresh eyes. Sometimes, I’ll go back to the same village or location, but with a different lens—emotionally and literally—and it leads to a completely new perspective. 

I also find inspiration in slowing down. When you stop chasing shots and start observing  more deeply, new layers begin to reveal themselves—light changes, human expressions shift,  stories unfold. That’s where curiosity thrives. 

So for me, the key is to keep exploring—not just the world, but also within myself.  Photography is not a destination; it’s a lifelong journey, and there’s always something new to  learn, feel, or express. 

How do you teach someone to capture the story of a place rather than just a pretty  snapshot? 

I tell them to slow down, observe, and connect with the people and rhythm of the place.  Understand the culture, light, and emotions around you. A story isn’t just seen—it’s felt.  When you feel it, the camera becomes a bridge, not just a tool. That’s when storytelling truly  begins. 

How do you measure your success? 

I measure success not just by awards or recognition, but by the emotional connection my  work creates. When someone sees one of my images and feels something—curiosity,  empathy, respect—that’s success. It’s also in the trust of the people I photograph and the  stories I’m honoured to share with honesty and heart. 

What’s your photographic signature? 

My photographic signature lies in capturing authentic cultural moments with natural light,  soft tones, and emotional depth. I focus on people in their environments—often in rural or  remote regions—framed with simplicity, texture, and quiet storytelling. My images aim to  reflect not just what a place looks like, but what it feels like. 

Capturing Travel Chronicles – Chris Ha

Chris Ha’s work is a visual treat to see, not only because of the passions that’s reflected in his well-composed frames, but also in the effort he puts in breaking tough concepts of post-processing in his videos. Spanning across multiple genres, his work has amassed admirers and acclaim from around the world. Asian Photography caught up with him to talk about his journey, mistakes, key learnings and more. Excerpts:

When did travel photography become more than just a hobby for you?

I’ve always loved photography. Back in my college days, I worked at a photo lab and would spend hours

studying other people’s photos, trying to understand what made them compelling. For years, I actually

focussed more on concert photography — capturing fast-paced moments in low light taught me a lot about timing, composition, and storytelling. I’ve carried a camera with me everywhere, but it wasn’t until my wife and I travelled to Japan in 2023. Travel photography really became something more. I posted a few photos from that trip on social media, and they unexpectedly went viral. That’s when I realised I wanted to take travel photography more seriously and share it as a form of art. It’s such a rewarding feeling when people connect with your work and see the beauty you saw at that moment.

What’s the first thing you learnt doing travel photography?

One of the first lessons I have  learned is that the best moments in travel photography often happen when you least expect them. You have to let the scene come to you – not the other way around. That learning really showed itself during a trip to the Atacama Desert in Chile. We were driving in the early hours of the morning on our way to another location when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. A

herd of vicuñas were quietly grazing, with the Andes mountains in the background, and the first light of  sunrise casting a golden glow across the scene. It was surreal. I quickly asked the driver to pull over, grabbed my camera, and shot it right out the window. That photo ended up being one of my favourite captures. It was a reminder that sometimes the most powerful images aren’t planned – they happen when you’re fully present and ready to respond.

What are some mistakes you made early on that you wish someone had warned you about?

One big mistake I made early on was thinking I had to capture everything. I’d try to document every angle and every moment, afraid I’d miss something. But in doing that, I wasn’t really slowing down to observe or be intentional with my shots. Over time, I realised that great photography is less about volume and more about vision. It’s about waiting for the right moment, the right light, and the right feeling. 

Another lesson was realising, you don’t need the latest gear to take great photos. I used to shoot on an older Canon 5D Mark III until just last year. It didn’t have all the features of modern mirrorless cameras, but it helped me master the fundamentals. Having limitations pushed me to be more creative and intentional every time I picked up the camera.

How do you handle failure or disappointment?

I’ve definitely had trips where the weather didn’t cooperate, access was restricted, or the photos just didn’t turn out the way I imagined. It’s frustrating at the moment, but I’ve learned to see those situations as part of the process. Not every shoot is going to be a win, and that’s okay. 

I try to treat those moments as a reminder to stay flexible and present. Sometimes the best shots happen

when you stop chasing the original plan and start paying attention to what’s around you instead. And even if I come home without the photo I wanted, I’ve usually gained something else – a new idea, a better understanding of the location, or simply a good story. Those “misses” have helped me grow just as much as the successful shoots.

At what point did you feel confident enough to start sharing your knowledge with others?

It was after my first few travel photos went viral on Instagram. Until that point, I was mostly shooting for myself. There’s always that doubt in the back of your mind—wondering if people will connect with your work the same way you do. But seeing others respond to the photos and ask how I captured certain shots gave me the confidence to start sharing more of my process. That acknowledgement helped me realize that what I’ve learned could actually help others on their own journey. And the more I shared, the more I enjoyed being part of that creative exchange.

Was teaching always part of the plan, or did it happen naturally as you grew in your career?

It was never part of the plan, but I genuinely enjoy it. As I started sharing more of my work, people began

asking questions — about my camera settings, editing, or how I captured a specific moment. I realised I liked helping others figure it out. It’s fun to support someone in their own creative journey and help give them the confidence to share their art. The world just feels richer when more people are showing how they see things in their own unique way.

Has teaching others ever helped you see your own work in a new way?

Absolutely. Teaching forces you to slow down and really think about why you do what you do. When I break down my process for someone else, it makes me more intentional with how I shoot and edit. Sometimes I’ll explain something I do out of habit, and in doing so, I realise there’s actually a more efficient or creative way to approach it.

It’s also inspiring to see how other people interpret the same scene or technique differently. That perspective reminds me to stay curious and keep evolving. Teaching isn’t just about giving knowledge – it’s a two-way exchange that keeps me learning too.

What’s one piece of advice you always give to new photographers, no matter where they’re starting from?

Just start shooting and get your work out there. Don’t wait until everything feels perfect. The best way to grow is by doing, experimenting, and learning as you go. And don’t be afraid to share your work, even if it feels daunting at first.

Putting your photos out into the world, especially on social media, can feel intimidating. You might worry

about what others will think or whether your work is “good enough”. But the truth is, sharing your art is part of the process. It helps you build confidence, get feedback, and find your voice. Everyone starts somewhere, and the only way to improve is to keep showing up.

May 2025

Asian Photography Magazine May 2025 Issue is out!

📸 Cover by: Chris Ha

In this issue, explore:

Capturing Chronicles – Chris Ha
Slow Mind, Soulful Stills – Mahendra Bakle
Best Travel Destinations in India
How to Take Sharp Travel Photos Without a Tripod
Minimalist Travel Photography
Tips for Shooting Landmarks Without Making Them Cliche

April 2025

Asian Photography Magazine April 2025 Issue is out!

📸 Cover by: Alex Stead

In this issue, explore:

The Art of Capturing Expeditions – Alex Stead
Travelling The World’s Gullies – Shreepad Gaonkaar
Best Travel Photography Gear For All Budgets
Drone Photography On The Road
Portraits of a Culture
Street Photography in Crowded Place

Fearless Frames, Lasting Legacy – Dr Latika Nath

Dr Latika Nath, The Tiger Princess of India, has been photographing stories for years now, blending art and advocacy. Through photography, she’s paving a way for the next generation of women to come ahead and break the glass ceiling. Her work has brought her several accolades, publishings & exhibitions. Today, she is a Nikon Creator & Ambassador for Leica. Asian Photography spoke to her about her upbringing, passion for photography & wildlife conservation, the barriers she has faced in her life & her career, storytelling and more. Excerpts: 

What inspired you to become a photographer, and what was the journey like?

I grew up surrounded by a family that loved the outdoors and photography. National Geographic magazines were always around, and every vacation was carefully recorded. As a child, sitting and listening to friends of my parents who were photographers had me dreaming of a life as a wildlife photographer. I got my first camera when I was five years old, and would follow my father around and take photographs on vacations. Later as a scientist, photography became a tool for documenting animal behaviour, identification, monitoring and story telling for conservation of species, cultures and communities. 

I was married to a wildlife photographer and spent over a decade being discouraged from doing any photography. My photography was perceived as a threat to his, and for over a decade, I hardly ever picked up a camera. After separating from him, I realised the decade that I had lost. Cameras moved from film to digital, lenses and technology had changed, and it wasn’t a gradual process, it was a quantum leap. Kodachrome and Fuji films were things of the past, with a few specialised photographers who would continue the craft. 

It was with trepidation that I borrowed a camera from my father. Unsure of my ability to learn to use it and even less certain of whether I would be able to make the kind of images I knew I wanted to, I embarked on a journey of discovery and wonder. Every image I took was for myself, allowing me to remember the details about my journeys, the places I visited, the wild animals I came across and the people I met. My memory would fall short, and I would not be able to recount the details, but my photographs reminded me of the time and the place. The photographs were taken for myself first, and then I began to slowly share a few with other people.

With renewed confidence, and excitement, I began to purchase equipment one at a time, and spent most of my time travelling. Nikon noticed my work and invited me to become an NPS member. That was the beginning of a new time. To my surprise, I realised that people actually enjoyed my photographs, and that without realising it I was being considered a member of the wildlife photographer community in India, and then across the world. It was humbling and still surprises me. Exhibitions and books followed, and I began to be spoken of as a professional photographer. And this love affair with photography continues to be a central part of my life.

What kind of stories do you love telling through your photographs?

I photograph anything that fascinates me. Portraits of Wildlife & people, landscapes, architecture, the stars, food, marine life, culture, communities, colours, patterns, textures, and emotions. Photography is my way of sharing how I see and experience the world. It is about my perspective, and about showing people a different way to look at something they might have already seen. It’s about making people think, and ask questions, and to encourage them to explore a thought or a reaction.

Much of my photography tells the stories of species and their habitats and focusses on creating awareness for conservation of the animals. However, some of the more important work I have done has also been about tribal people and their connection with nature.

Have you faced gender bias in the industry? How did you navigate it?

Of course, I did face gender bias. India is a largely patriarchal society, and most people in the early years of my career would imagine that all wildlife photographers are men. When a petite, 5’3” girl would appear, there would be comments and disbelief and a tendency to immediately rule out the possibility of even considering that I was capable of working under tough field conditions and producing decent work.

As one of the first women conservation ecologists and photographers in India, there was a definite glass ceiling that I had to break through. Persistence, commitment, and an unswerving dedication to my path were all important in making people realise that I could work with the best of them, and could not only match, but surpass the work that they were doing.

Have you worked on projects that specifically highlight women’s stories? Can you share an example?

I seldom work on women-centric projects, but one that is very close to my heart is the story of the women of the Mursi tribe of Ethiopia. Those women perform a ritual at the coming of age ceremony of a boy in their family. At this time, the young men who have been through this ritual are involved in whipping the women related to the boy who is undergoing the ceremony.

The women, except for the mother of the boy, come to the ceremony highly decorated, their hair and bodies covered in clay and butter, dancing and singing. The young men then whip the women with whips prepared on the site. The women get cuts all over their bodies and often bleed profusely.

I have an image where a very young girl is insisting that she too can be strong enough to take the whipping and is waiting for a young man to strike her with a whip while her older sister looks on. The image speaks to me and each time I look at it, it breaks my heart. This image and others are all a part of my book, and the exhibitions on Omo.

What does Women’s Day mean to you as a photographer?

As someone who belongs to a family of strong women, and someone who is constantly deriving strength and support from a community of strong, wise and compassionate women friends and colleagues, I sometimes wonder why we need a women’s day. Are we being told indirectly that one day out of 365 is for the celebration of women, while the other 364 are not?

Do we need one day a year to celebrate women? I would rather belong to a world where each day we celebrate being good human beings, where there is respect, honesty and truth. It is sad that we feel that we can only celebrate a single day in a year as Women’s Day — I capture the world through a woman’s eyes every day. Each day is a day in the life of a woman, and my photographs capture and freeze these moments in time. 

How can photography be a tool for women’s empowerment?

The haunting images of the Chipko movement, the fight for the Right to Information by Aruna Roy, the recent protests in Iran about Mahsa Amini’s death and women cutting their hair, the story of the young girls like Malala from Pakistan or Greta Thunberg, or the Narmada protests by Medha Patkar, as well as the struggles of Aung San Suu Kyi or Irom Sharmila were all brought into the consciousness of people across the world through the power of photography which supplemented the written and spoken word. Images can truly change the narrative and influence change, and be a powerful tool for women’s empowerment. 

Have you ever faced limitations in terms of access to certain spaces?

In India, most of the top photographers are still men. There are only a small handful of women that have made their name in fine art photography, street photography, wildlife photography, fashion photography and photojournalism. The men’s club is still elitist and one that most of us have not been able to break into these. Assignments are hard to come by, and very few journals or magazines will work with women photographers. This needs to change.

What’s a project you’ve worked on that made you feel particularly proud as a female photographer?

As one of India’s foremost wildlife photographers and the Tiger Princess of India, my three decades of work on big cats is something that I’m very proud of. I have worked across the globe and on all species of the big cats. I work on foot and have walked with many of the big cats. This is something that few photographers can do, and fewer have the courage to do. I am considered the role model for many young women entering this field, and this alone makes it all worthwhile.

Have you noticed a shift in the industry regarding how women are represented in photoshoots?

In the stories of today, strong, independent women who are decision makers, super moms, and powerful businesswomen are playing important roles in changing the narrative. The submissive housewife has disappeared, as has the gangster’s moll, and women can command centre stage presence in photoshoots as trend setters and role models.

If you could create a Women’s Day photo series, what would it focus on?

For a while now, I have been wanting to shoot a series on women weavers of India. I would very much like to shoot this and hope that I will be able to find someone who will support this dream project. The saree is a quintessential part of being an Indian woman, and I would like to tell the story of the creation of sarees through the women who create them.