About Me
Hi, I’m a wildlife photographer based in Mumbai, traveling across India in my trusted Tata Safari — GendaSwami.
But beneath the polished surface, a quiet voice kept calling — not to boardrooms or bright city lights, but to something far older, wilder, and more honest.
It whispered of forest trails bathed in mist, of sunrises witnessed in stillness, of birds that sing for no audience, and of animals that live by instinct, not ambition. While I sat in air-conditioned offices, my soul longed for the scent of wet earth, the thrill of a distant roar, the silence that speaks only in the wild.
And one day, I stopped ignoring that call.
I walked away from the well-paved path and chose a road with no maps — led only by instinct, awe, and a need to feel alive. I turned toward the wilderness, not as an escape, but as a return. A return to something pure, untamed, and essential.
Today, I do not photograph people. I photograph life — raw, breathing, unfiltered. I seek the quiet drama of the natural world: the glance of a deer before it darts, the stillness of a raptor on a branch, the poetry of wings against the wind. I wait for moments that are real, not rehearsed. I believe that the wild does not perform — it simply is — and that’s where its power lies.
Through my work, I hope to remind others of what we so often forget: that the wild is not something outside us — it is something within us. Something ancient. Something sacred.
This is not a new career.
This is a homecoming.
Behind the name “GendaSwami”
Gendaswami – The Soul of the Wild
I wasn’t looking for magic.
Just a car.
A machine to take me from one place to another.
But fate had other plans.
In a quiet corner of a TATA showroom, my daughter stood still-eyes wide, heart captured-not by horsepower or chrome, but by a symbol: the proud silhouette of a one-horned rhino, etched into the Kaziranga edition of the TATA Safari.
She didn’t say much. Just pointed, smiled, and said, “This one.”
And that was it.
On her instinct alone, I signed the papers.
But when the keys touched my palm, something ancient stirred.
A forgotten fire.
The scent of forests, the call of distant birds, the thrill of waiting hours for a perfect shot in the wild-my old love for nature and wildlife photography came rushing back like a monsoon river breaking its dam.
We named him Gendaswami-a name born from my daughter’s laughter, her imagination, her love.
A name that felt like a story in itself.
Not just a car, but a companion. A guardian. A gentle beast with a wild soul.
Since then, Gendaswami and I have chased sunsets across Rajasthan’s golden dunes, traced the salt-kissed winds of Gujarat, wandered through the lush greens of Karnataka, danced with the waves in Goa, and lost ourselves in the heart of Madhya Pradesh.
Maharashtra, our home, has become a canvas of memories-painted with every turn, every trail, every whisper of the wind through the windows.
Gendaswami doesn’t just carry us.
He carries dreams.
He carries the bond between a father and daughter.
He carries the echo of the wild, the rhythm of the road, and the poetry of rediscovery.
And every time the engine hums to life, I know-
We’re not just going somewhere.
We’re going home.
