Raghu Rai : 18 December 1942 - 26 April 2026

For Raghu Rai, photography was never simply observation—it was a way of feeling his way into the world. In Picturing Time (2015), he wrote of wanting to capture “life’s longing for itself,” a phrase that comes closest to explaining the quiet intensity that runs through his work.

Music might have been his first calling. Rai has often spoken of an early desire to become a musician, drawn to rhythm and improvisation.

During his time as Photo Editor at India Today in the mid-1960s, Rai embarked on a project few photographers of his stature had pursued with such depth: to assemble a lasting visual archive of the masters who carried Hindustani and Carnatic music into the late twentieth century. The list of those he photographed is formidable—Ravi Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan, M. S. Subbulakshmi, Bismillah Khan, Vilayat Khan, Kishori Amonkar, Bhimsen Joshi, Mallikarjun Mansur, Kumar Gandharva, Alla Rakha, Zakir Hussain, Hariprasad Chaurasia, S. Balachander.

He captured them in performance and in intimacy—on stage, at home, in preparation, mid-alaap, or in moments of laughter. He would sit before musicians with the patience of a disciple, waiting for the moment when the music lifted him elsewhere. 

Alongside this ran another current—through power and catastrophe. His proximity to Indira Gandhi offered a rare view of political authority; his portraits of Mother Teresa remain among the most intimate ever made. In the aftermath of the Bhopal Gas Tragedy, his images revealed the human cost with unflinching clarity.

In 1971, he was awarded the Padma Shri, one of India’s highest civilian honours, a recognition seldom extended to a photographer.

For much of his career, he worked predominantly in black and white, resisting colour not out of nostalgia, but from a belief that form, light, and emotion carried greater clarity on their own.

Raghu Rai died in Delhi on 26 April 2026. He was 83.

He leaves behind the eye of a reporter, the patience of a witness, and the instinct of a rasik. His archive now stands as a decades-long observation of a nation and its inner tensions, guided by a deeply human eye.

— Hat tip to Preksha Kothari