Photojournalist Raghu Rai dies at 83: The eye that found a soul in every frame

A tribute to Raghu Rai's meditative approach to photography, tracing his India Today years and how presence, instinct, and a keen eye turned ordinary moments into enduring images, as recalled by a colleague who worked closely with him.

In Short

• Raghu Rai saw photography as spiritual darshan, capturing emotion and energy beyond the physical
• He was known for his intense focus and keen eye for detail
• His legacy is the unique space he created in people's hearts through his compelling images

Raghu Rai once said he could never meditate without a camera. He had tried, but failed several times.

It was only behind the lens that he found a meditative state -- where he became an ordinary man guided by intuition.

His pictures -- simple, yet brilliant and telling.

An extension of his persona, a photograph for him was like a “darshan.”

It was about seeing in totality -- not just capturing the physical, but also emotion, feeling, and, most importantly, the energy of the moment, as he said in an interview with Doordarshan.

His pictures, over a six-decade-long career, remained just that -- ordinary, yet magical. He kept clicking until the last few weeks before he breathed his last on April 26.

For him, the magic came from being present. Clicking a picture was like a pilgrimage -- a battle with his own ego.

To move beyond familiar compositions and create something truly deserving of the moment. Situations evolve, he said. So should frames.

PRESENCE OVER TECHNIQUE

For Raghu Rai, photography and spirituality went hand in hand. It went beyond seeing, into the metaphysical -- the beating heart, the emotion, the energy.

Those who worked closely with him recall his ability to immerse himself completely in the moment.

“The first thing that caught my eye was Raghu’s intensity and tremendous focus -- when he looked at you, he was always there,” said India Today Group Editorial Director Raj Chengappa, recalling the 1980s. “He wasn’t distracted, regardless of hierarchy or who you were.”

Raj and Raghu began their journey at India Today back in 1981. For Raj, then a budding correspondent, what stood out was Raghu’s immense awareness -- his “eye for detail, childlike curiosity, and ability to capture moments others would miss.”

By then, Raghu Rai was already acclaimed. His images had captured the 1970s -- Indira Gandhi’s raw public moments, and the wider zeitgeist.

He documented hunger and loss with a deep human gaze -- the hollow, sunken eyes of the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War, carrying stories words could not.

These works earned him the Padma Shri in 1972, making him the first photojournalist to receive the honour -- marking a moment when photojournalism found formal recognition as a civilian contribution to nation-building.

Recalling those years, Raj said Raghu seemed untouched by his own greatness -- never weighed down by what he had already achieved.

FINDING THE FRAME

Their first assignment together was the 1981 Meenakshipuram mass conversion -- nearly 300 Dalit families embracing Islam in search of dignity, decades after Independence.

It was here, Raj said, that he saw Raghu’s gift -- to read the ordinary in an extraordinary way.

Driving through the village, Raj recalled that Raghu suddenly asked the car to stop. “To me, it looked ordinary,” he said. But Raghu had spotted something -- a fleeting image of a woman at her doorway as clerics left.

That moment became a photograph -- and an idea.

It captured Nagore Meer, formerly Nagu, kneeling in namaz, his child beside him, under the shadow of a Hindu deity.

As their India Today piece, Islam’s New Children (July 1981), recorded, Nagu spoke of exclusion in his old faith, and of dignity and equality in his newfound one.

The photograph spoke beyond words. In black and white, it held quiet tension -- a man and child in prayer, a woman watching from a dilapidated doorway. A rebirth, frozen in a frame.

Raghu had seen it in an instant.

THE CRAFT OF INSTINCT

It was this ability, Raj noted, to merge news with artistic brilliance that set Raghu apart.

“He could create impactful images -- immediate, yet remarkably composed,” Raj said.

Raghu described it as connecting to the “current” of a situation -- being fully present, physically and spiritually -- so that “whatever you project has magic.”

It was his way of capturing fleeting life -- to shed learnt patterns, detach from the self, and immerse fully in the present, achieving speed, precision, and depth at once.

AN ACCIDENTAL BEGINNING

Raghu Rai's journey began in the 1960s by what he called sheer accident.

“Accidents happen and this was one that gave me direction,” he told Doordarshan.

Visiting his brother, photographer S Paul, he picked up a camera out of boredom and photographed a donkey staring into the lens.

Paul sent it to The Times, London. It was published as a half-page feature.

There was no looking back.

BEYOND THE LENS

For Raghu, technique was important, but secondary. Connection came first -- once achieved, imperfections no longer mattered.

Photography became a way to engage with life’s enduring questions -- who we are, where we are going.

He explored streets and unseen worlds, capturing life with clarity and nakedness.

That philosophy shaped some of his defining images: a father burying his child after the 1984 Bhopal Gas Tragedy; Indira Gandhi amid a sea of men, in a frame often described as “the only man in the Cabinet.”

“If you think you have made it, you are finished -- you stop learning,” Raghu once told Raj. The lesson stayed.

Recalling a personal moment, Raj said he once asked Raghu to pick one photograph he liked the most. “I thought he would choose a great portrait,” he said. Instead, Raghu picked an image of a village boy watching goats pass by.

On it, he wrote: "I wish you lots of life and space."

If you don’t make space for yourself, you get crowded out,” Raj said, reflecting on the wisdom in those lines.

Raghu created that space -- and it reflected in his photographs.

In the end, Raj said, it is that space Raghu occupies -- in people’s lives and hearts -- that will endure long after he is gone.

- Ends