Krishna Janmashtami celebrates the birth of Shri Krishna, one of the most beloved deities in Hindu tradition. Celebrated with prayer, devotion, music and gatherings of families and communities, Janmashtami is also a time to remember the stories and teachings that have been passed from one generation to another.
But when you live far from the place you once called home, traditions like these can begin to mean something more.
Living abroad inevitably changes our relationship with our roots. Life becomes busy, families become scattered and many of the traditions that once surrounded us naturally require a conscious effort to preserve.
Sometimes it is only when you walk into a room filled with familiar prayers, stories, colours, food and faces that you realise how much you missed them.
Today was one of those days.
We joined the Shri Krishna Janmashtami celebration organised by Dharma Mandir Newport, and from the moment we arrived, there was a wonderful warmth to the gathering.
The celebration began with Guruji (Spiritual Leader Guru Vyas Sharma) sharing stories about Shri Krishna and the story of his birth. Listening to those stories in a room filled with families and children felt particularly meaningful.
These are stories many of us grew up hearing, and seeing another generation sitting in the same room listening to them was a quiet reminder of how traditions survive — by being shared.
The storytelling was followed by pooja and hawan, bringing everyone together in prayer and devotion.
Yet one of the moments that stayed with me most came when the children gathered together.
The children who attend school were blessed by the elders present, accompanied by Vedic mantras and prayers for them to do well in their studies and in the journey ahead of them.
It was a simple moment, but a beautiful one.
Perhaps it stood out because it is something we don’t encounter very often anymore: children surrounded by a community of elders, collectively offering their blessings and wishing for their success.
Beyond religion itself, there was something deeply human about seeing one generation consciously encouraging the next.
And then there were all the moments in between.
Children laughing and posing for photographs. Families taking part in the celebrations. Hands coming together in prayer. People singing, dancing and sharing the occasion with one another.
The bright colours of flowers and traditional clothing filled the room while conversations, laughter and movement carried on around the rituals.
These are often the moments I enjoy photographing most.
Not necessarily the perfectly arranged ones, but the small expressions and interactions that tell you what it actually felt like to be there.
For those of us living away from the cultures and traditions we grew up around, organisations such as Dharma Mandir Newport do something incredibly valuable.
Behind gatherings like this are people giving their time and energy so that traditions aren’t merely remembered — they continue to be experienced.
They create a place where children can encounter traditions that might otherwise feel distant, where older generations can pass something on, and where, for a few hours, being thousands of miles away can somehow feel a little closer to home.
The celebration eventually concluded with food organised by Dharma Mandir Newport, giving everyone another opportunity to sit together, talk and simply enjoy being part of the community.
My thanks to Dharma Mandir Newport, its trustees Kessia Raghoonauth, Armand Khusul and Vyas Bikuntidat Sharma, Guruji, the volunteers, and everyone who helped bring the celebration together.
These photographs are a few moments from that day — of devotion, colour, laughter, community and a little piece of home.
— Ishan Singh
Hearth & Lens Magazine
