Sriram Mallik – The Corners We Walk Past
Sriram moves through the world with an attentiveness that feels almost rare today – noticing the subtleties, the rhythms, the truths that reveal themselves only to those willing to slow down. What draws him in isn’t spectacle or drama, but the pulse of everyday life: the understated, the unguarded, the moments that unfold without asking for attention.
For Sriram, the ordinary is alive, layered, and full of meaning. His work is an invitation to reconsider what we dismiss as routine and to recognise how much humanity sits in the simple act of existing.
For Sriram, the ordinary is alive, layered, and full of meaning. His work is an invitation to reconsider what we dismiss as routine and to recognise how much humanity sits in the simple act of existing.
“Seeing What the World Rushes Past”
When Sriram talks about photography, he returns to one idea: the quiet magic of everyday life.
He’s drawn to moments so small they almost disappear. Since 2018, he’s been documenting these scenes not out of habit, but out of devotion. His work gently insists: slow down – something is happening here. His images come from that space where nothing dramatic happens, yet everything is happening.
For him, the ordinary is not filler. It’s a pulse.
He’s drawn to moments so small they almost disappear. Since 2018, he’s been documenting these scenes not out of habit, but out of devotion. His work gently insists: slow down – something is happening here. His images come from that space where nothing dramatic happens, yet everything is happening.
For him, the ordinary is not filler. It’s a pulse.
“Stories in the In-Between”
Sriram doesn’t try to impress you with drama. He tries to remind you that meaning is everywhere.
Every frame is a small story – sometimes warm, sometimes lonely, always real. He wants people to see their own surroundings differently, to recognise that beauty often hides in the unremarkable. “A good photograph,” he says, “doesn’t just show what I saw. It reveals why it mattered.”
This is the clarity he shoots with: not spectacle, but truth.
Every frame is a small story – sometimes warm, sometimes lonely, always real. He wants people to see their own surroundings differently, to recognise that beauty often hides in the unremarkable. “A good photograph,” he says, “doesn’t just show what I saw. It reveals why it mattered.”
This is the clarity he shoots with: not spectacle, but truth.
“A Practice Built During Stillness”
What many don’t know is that Sriram’s relationship with photography began during a period of complete physical stillness. Three years spent on a bed, recovering from a severe spinal injury.
Most people would drown in that kind of confinement. He learned instead. Books, experts, long nights of watching and studying – without even holding a camera.
By the time he could stand again, he carried something rare: patience, discipline, and an eye trained by attention rather than movement.
Most people would drown in that kind of confinement. He learned instead. Books, experts, long nights of watching and studying – without even holding a camera.
By the time he could stand again, he carried something rare: patience, discipline, and an eye trained by attention rather than movement.
“A Diary Made of Light”
Looking back at his photographs feels like opening a journal he didn’t write but lived.
Each frame takes him to a street, a feeling, a breath he once paused for. They’re reminders of how slowly he had to rebuild his life – and how that slowness eventually became his greatest strength.
Photography didn’t just give him a craft. It gave him a direction.
Each frame takes him to a street, a feeling, a breath he once paused for. They’re reminders of how slowly he had to rebuild his life – and how that slowness eventually became his greatest strength.
Photography didn’t just give him a craft. It gave him a direction.
Sriram Mallik’s work reminds us that the world doesn’t need to be extraordinary to be worth looking at. It just needs someone patient enough to notice it.
In catching these unpolished fragments of life, he turns them into something lasting – something rare.
He is, without question, a Rare Storyteller.
In catching these unpolished fragments of life, he turns them into something lasting – something rare.
He is, without question, a Rare Storyteller.
The pictures and perspectives expressed above are those of the author(s) alone and do not represent the views of Rare Storyteller or its team.
to the world.