When I pointed my camera at them, the boys looked very happy

As I wandered through the streets of Aurangabad, I came across a group of young boys loitering by the roadside. The moment they spotted a foreigner, their curiosity surged uncontrollably, and they hurried over. In some parts of India, foreign travelers are no longer such a rarity, but in backstreets or on the way home from school, a foreign face still seems to draw attention. The boys linked arms, chattering noisily over who should stand in front, before finally lining up together in front of my camera.

When I pressed the shutter, their faces lit up with genuine delight—innocent smiles mingled with gestures that carried a hint of pride. In India, some people dislike having their picture taken, but for children, it seems to be like stepping briefly onto a stage. In that sense, a camera is more than just a tool; it becomes a bridge that instantly connects strangers.

Aurangabad, sometimes called the “Gateway to the Deccan,” has long been a crossroads of trade and culture. Perhaps for this reason, its people are said to be relatively open to outsiders. The spirited curiosity of the children might be a reflection of that historical temperament. Across India, it’s a common scene: pull out a camera on a street corner and people will appear from nowhere, insisting, “Take my picture too!” But these boys, I felt, weren’t demanding so much as openly expressing a desire to engage with an unfamiliar world.