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Raghu Rai forever

His images did not merely record the world; they revealed its inner music, its sorrow and joy, its silence and thunder
Raghu Rai (1942 - 2026). Photo by Aditya Arya

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Raghuji visited Museo Camera (in Gurugram) two years after its inauguration in 2009. And as he entered, he looked at me and said, “Will you ever pardon me? I have done something that I should not have. I should have come here much earlier, so please pardon me.” That was very humble of him. Thereafter, he visited us regularly for the next two years. I still remember what he wrote in the visitor’s book, “Wah, kya baat hai!”

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We would often have discussions on the making of Museo Camera. He was always exploring the possibilities of setting up his own museum, which unfortunately remained one of his unfulfilled dreams.

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His Holiness The Dalai Lama, 1995. This image by Raghu Rai was part of ‘Drishti: 75 Years of Indian Image Making’, an exhibition at Museo Camera, curated and conceptualised by Aditya Arya.

Raghu Rai’s photographs were like symphonies — each one gathered at the height of its own crescendo, where feeling, form, and vision converged into a moment of profound intensity. In every frame, there was a pulse of life, a reverberation of human emotion that lingered far beyond the instant of capture. Whether he worked in colour or in black and white, the force of his seeing remained unchanged: searching, intimate, and deeply humane. His images did not merely record the world; they revealed its inner music, sorrow and joy, silence and its thunder, all held together in a single, luminous act of vision.

Women offering prayers at Hazrat Bal Dargah in Kashmir, 2016. This image by Raghu Rai was part of ‘Drishti: 75 Years of Indian Image Making’, an exhibition at Museo Camera, curated and conceptualised by Aditya Arya.

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Raghu Rai will be deeply missed at Museo Camera — not only as one of India’s greatest photographers, but as a guiding presence whose relationship with the museum and its community of photographers was intimate, generous, and deeply meaningful.

He was never just a celebrated master visiting an institution. He was part of its spirit. His presence brought with it a way of seeing that went beyond technique, beyond the frame, and beyond the surface of things. He reminded us that photography is not merely about looking, but about listening — to silence, to light, to pain, to grace, and to the truth hidden within ordinary life.

Mother Teresa, 1973. This image by Raghu Rai was part of ‘Drishti: 75 Years of Indian Image Making’, an exhibition at Museo Camera, curated and conceptualised by Aditya Arya.

For generations of photographers connected with Museo Camera, Raghu Rai was a mentor, an inspiration, and a quiet force. Through his conversations, his images, and his way of engaging with the world, he encouraged photographers to see not only with the eye, but with the heart. He deepened our understanding of what an image can hold — memory, compassion, history, and feeling. His association gave strength to the museum’s larger purpose: to preserve not just cameras and photographs, but the living spirit of photography itself.

His absence will be felt in every conversation on photography, in every beam of light that enters the museum, and in every image that seeks truth beyond appearance. His photographs will endure, but so will his wisdom, his warmth, and the profound way in which he connected with photographers, students, and all those who came to understand the power of the photographic image.

Raghu Rai’s legacy will remain alive at Museo Camera — in its walls, its memories, its community, and in the hearts of all photographers who were touched by his vision.

— The writer is founding director of Museo Camera, Gurugram

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