Shield

Busy market. Too many people, too much noise. I saw this mother with her hand resting on her son’s head, keeping him close. She wasn’t looking at him. It was just automatic—her palm there while she walked or stood or waited.

This is not posed. Her hand just stayed. The red nails, the bangles, the weight of it on his hair. He seemed calm under it. Like he knew the drill.

I closed in tight because that’s all the photo needed. The red of her sari, the yellow of his shirt, her hand in between. You don’t need to see faces to know what’s happening.

I took one shot and moved on. Some moments you don’t overthink.