Bangalore swallows light differently in the fog. The city disappears. What's left are edges — a lamp that refuses to give up, a tower dissolving into grey, trees so tall they stop belonging to the ground.

I photograph the in-between. The moment before a place becomes itself again. The quiet that fog lends to things that are usually too loud to look at properly.

Based in Bangalore. Shooting on whatever day the mist decides to stay.