The boys thought it would be boring to make normal faces, so they made fun in front of the camera

Walking through the streets of Mumbai, I came across three boys loitering at the roadside. In the midst of the city’s dust and chaos, they seemed to have been waiting for this moment all along, greeting me with smiles the instant they spotted the camera hanging from my neck. Perhaps the DSLR itself was a curiosity, or perhaps it was nothing more than a convenient diversion from an idle afternoon. In any case, when I raised the lens, the boys fell effortlessly into their roles, each striking a different face as if by instinct.

The boy on the left gave a soft, measured smile, carrying himself with a composure beyond his years. The one in the middle squinted mischievously, baring his teeth in a grin that mocked the seriousness of the camera. And the boy on the right, with eyes narrowed and steady, fixed me with a look that felt almost like a challenge, as though the photograph were a duel and he intended to win.

Captured together in a single frame, their expressions formed a kind of impromptu tableau, something out of a fable’s illustration. People often remark that Indian portraits seem to have unusually intense gazes, but I suspect it has less to do with chance than with the everyday theatre of street life. Children here, without ever being taught, have already mastered the art of catching the eye. In Mumbai, even the smallest actors seem to absorb the restless energy of the city, and it shows most clearly in the strength of their gaze.