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This photo was taken in a small indigenous village in Bandarban. On a winter morning, after breakfast, an elderly woman was lighting a stick to smoke tobacco leaves. Smoke rose from the leaves, blending with the mist. Watching from a distance, I immediately clicked the shutter with my camera in hand.
Transparency Note: The resonance score (6.3/20) is calculated based on social engagement metrics collected before the award announcement.
How much of a life is contained in a single, drifting cloud of grey? We often measure our existence by the grand milestonesβthe arrivals, the departures, the loud proclamations of who we are.
Read the reflection →There is a specific, heavy stillness that arrives with the damp of a valley floor before the sun has fully claimed the day. It is a thick, milky white, the kind of mist that clings to the wool of a sweater and makes every sound feel muffled, as if the world is holding its breath.
Read the reflection →
Matcha Treat by Siti Anindita Farhani
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