Sep 8, 2011


..I was feeling sick and was resting in a small house before heading out on assignment... I was alone, about to fall asleep when I heard a quiet voice whispering in Bengali. I didn't move, just opened my eyes. Above my head I saw a tiny little hand reaching from a window, trying to touch my face. I sat up and looked outside for my visitor.

A little boy, apparently disabled, was looking at me with half of his face hidden behind the window frame. He was smiling shyly.

I couldn't speak to him so I reached my hand towards him. He stepped closer and without hesitation held my hands with both of his. He touched my nails and kept exploring my fingers as if they were special objects.

His hands were warm, burned by the sun, they felt like pieces of feather in my palms.


  1. Wow, beautiful. Your work is really amazing Jana!! ahoj. patrik

  2. seriously jana..i really loved it...


  3. Not only a phenomenal photographer, but a beautifully poetic writer.

  4. Thank you all for the kind words and comments.

  5. Your words and photos touched my heart deeply. Margaret

  6. A very moving and meaningful story Jana u have said so much in jus few lines and snaps.... Poetic & meaningful.Keep it up,Ali