July 20, 2008: A quarter past noon. Hellishly hot white light bouncing off a landscape of rock outside. But I’m squeezing ISO1600 in the depths of the majlis, and the shutter tears itself apart at f/1.4. Even the Syrian reporter to my right freezes. The story is up here now.
© 2009 Pinaki
Samakt
14 Dec
This entry was written by Pinaki, posted on December 14, 2009 at 4:24 pm, filed under Oman. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
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January 2008 A handful of kilometers away from the forgotten civilisation that erected stone tombs 5,000 years ago, Zuwayna squints across her courtyard looking for company. The …
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I freeze, too. From a distance and a long time after the Syrian reporter to your right did. What happened afterward? And did the gorgeous little boy come grab you in a bold hug and tell you things in Arabic baby-language that you didn’t understand? Mabrook, say I.