Aquin Mathews, director, Indian Photo Festival
Raghu Rai was more than a photographer; he was the visual conscience of a nation. He challenged every one of us to look deeper and feel more. I have always felt that while others take photos, he lived them. His legacy isn’t just in the archives he leaves behind, but in the way he taught us that photography is an act of love and a pursuit of truth. I remember a talk he gave at the festival where the room was packed to the doors. When someone asked about the ‘perfect’ camera settings, he just laughed and brushed the technicalities aside. ‘Don’t let the camera stand between you and the world,’ he said, ‘If you’re feeling it, the camera will find it.’ It wasn’t a formal lecture; it just felt like he was sharing a piece of himself with everyone there.
Ketaki Sheth, photographer
My husband, Aurobind Patel (Auro), and I were fortunate to have known Raghu as both a friend and a photographer for years. For us, the loss is a personal one, even as we celebrate his great life and distinction as a world-renowned photographer. His warmth, spontaneity, love for music, gardening and cooking are also qualities we will remember him for. As a photographer myself, we shared many experiences and even the same gallerist and publisher of our books. His legacy will remain forever. It will continue in the work of his daughter Avani. We will miss him.
G Venket Ram, photographer
He was one of the first Indian photojournalists to gain recognition and was nominated to join the Magnum Photos in the 1970s. Magnum Photos is a collective where other photographers must recommend you, which was a very big deal then and still is. I have met him a couple of times in Chennai when he came here for talks. He showed me that photography is about being aware of your surroundings — your culture and the people around you — and finding something meaningful within the confusion. He once told me that the world is like a hundred or a thousand theatres around you, with a thousand films being screened, and it is up to you to choose which movie interests you, compose it, and tell a story
Vicky Roy, photographer
Raghu sir was an exceptionally generous soul who enriched our Rang Open Library by contributing his books, one at a time. Every time I met him, he would gently say, ‘Munna, photo khinchte rehna,’ affectionately placing his palm on my face — a gesture filled with warmth, guidance, and quiet belief.
Aurobind Patel, designer
We worked closely at India Today from 1982-87. I was the design director, and Raghu was the photo editor. Raghu’s images captured journalistic moments with an artistic eye. We shared a loving and irreverent friendship. I will miss Raghu for many things — among them, how to admire rain clouds and the smell of a parched earth doused by first rains. I was initiated into this practice on the rooftop of our offices, where he would drag me to share the experience.
Abhishek Poddar, founder, MAP
He was one of the greatest photographers of all time, not just from India but from across the world. He came into my life about 40 years ago and more permanently about 20 years ago. I recall when we opened Tasveer (the photography gallery) exactly 20 years ago in 2006, he was very gracious and agreed for his to be the opening exhibition. It was hugely successful because until then, photography was seen as more of a photojournalistic medium that was to be experienced in magazines and newspapers. To see photographs in a gallery, and have them available, was a completely new idea at the time in India. Later, when we were starting Museum of Art & Photography (MAP), we were very lucky to have acquired the only collection of vintage prints he had with him. I remember once when I asked him how come you have taken so many amazing pictures, and the composition is always so perfect. He told me that when you are so persistent, then even God comes to your help and says, ‘ok, here you are, you can have it.’
Amar Ramesh, photographer
In 1972, he had already won the Padma Shri. After that, he continued shooting for almost 53 years. That’s (Padma Award) something you receive after accomplishing so much, and yet he kept going. If you want to know how India existed in the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s, it is through his pictures. It is a documentation of India itself. I have never seen any other photographer who lives with the camera as he did, except when he was sleeping. Even while eating, the camera was with him. He would constantly shoot, shoot, shoot. At 83, his energy was matchless. During our six days with him exploring the temples of Tamil Nadu, while all of us would rest in the car, he would still be shooting — from inside the car, creating amazing images.
Masood Hussain, wildlife photographer
The passing of Raghu Rai feels deeply personal to anyone who has ever looked at photography as more than just an image. For me, his photographs were never meant to be merely seen — they demanded to be read, to be felt, to be understood. From documenting defining moments like the Bhopal Gas Tragedy to capturing the essence of India’s streets, people, and spirit, his work remains timeless. He shaped not just how I viewed photography, but how I understood storytelling itself. He has left behind a legacy. His photographs will continue to speak. The legend will continue to live.
Kishor Krishnamoorthi, contemporary wedding and documentary photographer
I personally know friends who recently worked with him, were significantly younger in age, but said they were unable to keep up with his energy levels when shooting in the streets. He has photographed all parts of the country, and his work has helped permanently capture various timelines and places that would otherwise have been forgotten. Many of the younger generations will be able to witness the India of the past only through his photographs. My personal favourite series of his is on Indira Gandhi. He had unprecedented access and created stunning photographs of the nation’s leader.
K R Sunil, visual artist
I joined the College of Fine Arts in Thrissur to study art. Around that time, my friend Krishnakumar, who was also a mentor to me, introduced me to the works of Steve McCurry and Raghu Rai. Their approach, the life within their frames, the depth, and the possibilities that only photography can offer connected with me in a very real way. It was a moment of realisation for me that photography has the power to capture human life so deeply. And that gradually led me from fine arts towards photography. Once that door opened, I started searching for more. Whenever I entered a bookstore, I would instinctively pick up books by photographers like Raghu Rai. Even when I couldn’t afford them, I would spend hours there, just sitting with those books, going through the pages slowly. That experience influenced me very much. There are many great photographers in the world. But what made Raghu Rai stand out to me was the intensity of life in his images. Sometimes, a single frame would hold multiple lives. There was always a strong sense of presence. It felt almost like magic.
Subarna Patro, curator, National Gallery of Modern Art
Though I’m from Delhi, I never had the chance to meet him in person. I did, however, speak to him several times over the phone. The last time we connected, I had invited him to a photographic exhibition, but he couldn’t attend due to a date clash. I did have the opportunity to work with his wife, (conservation) architect Gurmeet Sangha Rai, who once invited me home to meet him over a cup of tea, something I’ll cherish, even if it didn’t materialise. We will never have another Raghu Rai. It is truly a major loss. It wouldn’t be wrong to call him the father of modern art. Photography, for him, was a defining artistic tool. It allowed him to express his inner thoughts. Today, while everyone can take pictures on their phones and many young photographers are doing impressive work, many lack sadhana, a deep dedication to the craft. Like painting or writing, it takes time and discipline. I own a few of his frames, including a touching one from the Bhopal Gas Tragedy of a dead baby wrapped in white cloth.