London is a city where even randomness looks like art. I’d call this city the birthplace of moody Instagram aesthetics. I have found empty beer cans thrust upside-down between the planks of a bench in a park and the first thought that came to my mind was – is this a modern commentary on post-industrial decay? There was one half-full champagne glass perched and left alone on the roof of a parked car near Oxford Street in central London and I thought – Hmm… is it going to inspire a poet to pen lines on urban romance meeting financial recklessness? This is London. For me when I am in the mood to click. It does not matter if I am carrying a Nikon or just a smartphone with a reasonably good camera. There is unspoken art all over the city. This is unfiltered London.
Everything here looks like it belongs to a museum. Every empty and half-empty bottle balanced on a metal railing or an empty champagne glass on top of an over-flowing road-side bin could say anything ranging from post-Brexit melancholy to the fickleness of progress. And yes, we have walked all around London and have come across hundreds of such un-preserved gems that some art curator in a good mood have turned into a new and accidental gallery in Soho. We have met pigeons that look like failed art students, half-eaten kebabs wondering aloud on traffic cones and believe me, these chance encounters are not about any existential crisis of a mere tourist, nor is it litter, my friend. I am sure that traffic cone would’ve had hours of fun with that half-eaten kebab and, given a chance, would pen a better comedy show than what even Trump stumps us all with. These are the moments that make London a beautiful, messy, and a little lonely city but unforgettable.
Have you ever seen a large rotund squirrel look straight into your eyes and whisper – why are you even here in my zone if you do not have nuts to share? Yes, they do. These squirrels make eye contact, throw spells at every tourist, and manage to not just get what they want but also end up becoming the most photographed and talked-about… and this is much more than what even the notorious monkeys around Jakhu temple of Hanuman near Shimla are able to achieve. London has the magical powers to make even squirrels dream big and I am sure there will be some lucky tourist who has snapped one of these arboreal creatures drinking warm cider on a bench in Kensington Park.
I recollect being overtaken by an urban fox near Royal Albert Wharf while on my morning walk. That was when it dawned on me that this city could turn everything into a story. That was when I began my search for crumpled newspapers, empty cans, pants coming down so low that the undergarment had to pull itself up, and single shoes or a lone boat merrily bobbing on the river,,, they were all trying to define London in their own lingo. I accept it all. I respect them all. Therefore, I simply pull out my phone and click and this makes me one with London.
Each one of these pictures, and I have shared only some of them here, is like a monument that deserves its own unique plaque. London has plenty of them and the administrators keep doling them out generously.
This city, after all, is a breathing museum without walls, where even a forgotten umbrella or a bruised hat tells a story waiting to be heard. There is an aching honesty in these little vignettes of life that London casually scatters across its parks, streets, and rooftops — an honesty that no curated gallery could ever replicate. It is in the unplanned, the imperfect, the almost-lost moments that this city bares its sincere heart to those willing to look beyond the polished facades.
As I walk these streets, camera-ready, heart open, I realise that London is not just a place to visit — it is a conversation to join, a painting still being made, a poem with no ending. Every crack on the pavement, every tired pigeon, every laughing fox is a brushstroke on the canvas of a city that never pretends to be perfect but somehow becomes unforgettable because of it. And in witnessing these unspoken moments, I find myself not just photographing London — but belonging to it.
Because in the end, it isn’t the grand landmarks or the famous skylines that stay with you — it is the quiet, imperfect poetry of everyday life that makes a city immortal in your soul.
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Arvind Passey
Uploaded on 24 April 2025
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