The Weight of a Story

I spent this morning trying to fix an old wooden chair that has been wobbling in my kitchen for months. I kept putting it off, thinking it was too much trouble, but today I finally sat down with the glue and the clamps. As I worked, I noticed the deep scratches in the wood and the way the grain had darkened over time. It occurred to me that we often look at things—or people—and see only the surface, the immediate function, or the age. We forget that every mark is a record of a life lived, a quiet history of weight and movement. We are all carrying around decades of stories that no one asks about, tucked away behind our eyes or etched into the lines on our faces. It makes me wonder how many worlds we pass by every single day without ever stopping to listen. What would we find if we just sat still long enough for someone to tell us their truth?

Lavi Dhurve has captured this beautifully in the portrait titled An Old Man with a Turban. It feels like a quiet invitation to look past the surface and acknowledge the person standing there. What do you see when you look into his eyes?