You wake up to the sound of your name as mother slides the curtains and the sunlight fills the room with golden air. Ajja sits in the verandah, quietly reading the newspaper and sipping his morning tea, waiting to buckle your shoes and drop you off at school. In the afternoon, your little feet dance as you hurriedly step inside the house, change your clothes, and in microseconds, you are again at your doorstep with a bat in your hand. You call your gully friends and get lost in the thrill of cricket as you know it. The bright afternoon melts into a grey evening. Old men and women donning plain traditional clothes head for the evening arati at the Shiva temple just around the corner. You look up and give them a faint smile and they reciprocate it with a grin. The dark then takes over and before you realize it’s time to tend your mighty responsibilities- homework, dinner, and sleep. Then one day, you wake up an adult and it hits you- there was much profoundness being a child.

Having lived in one of the outmoded alleys of Bengaluru for years, Arjun holds them very close to his heart. With this shoot, he takes a walk down the many gullies that diffuse homeliness and are always alive with everyday hullabaloos. These are the same alleys which represent his safe place, his home. Nammooru Bengaluru (Bangalore, our home) recites some dispersed anecdotes of childhood which drench the viewers in melancholy. The photographer explores the roots of the city by revisiting old streets that evince the good old days of his life. Join Archana as she gleefully reflects at all the little moments that made childhood such a happy place. So, here’s to childhood, the only fairytale that is never lost to us.