IN THE SULTRY New Delhi heat, the ceaseless traffic of humanity below was a cacophony of protean colours in an eternal flux. From a vantage point on top of the Red Fort, Khalil Ibrahim, ever cognisant of the changing light, deftly froze the scene, of figures wending their way around all kinds of vehicles on the street. Such was his finesse that he could pick out a figure from the top of the head or the instep or the derriere and consummated the work like magic before you could blink.
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