There are people who guide us without ever calling themselves guides.
They don’t preach.
They don’t push.
They don’t stand on stages or talk about success.
They simply live with a certain attention —
a way of seeing —
and if you’re lucky enough to stand close to them,
something inside you shifts.
I met one such person years ago, on a cold morning in Varanasi.
1. The Morning That Changed Something in Me
The city was still waking up.
Mist over the Ganga, boats drifting, and that quiet hum only Varanasi knows.
Someone handed me a DSLR.
A borrowed camera.
A small gesture.
But something happened inside me.
I didn’t know how to use it.
I didn’t know the language of shutter, aperture, or ISO.
But I knew I was being trusted with a new way of seeing.
And that trust changed me.
2. The Gift of Someone Who Sees Clearly
A true mentor never tries to impress you.
They don’t give long speeches or complicated philosophies.
They see —
and their seeing shows you your own blind spots, fears, hesitations, and possibilities.
Standing beside someone who sees clearly is like being handed a mirror you didn’t know you needed.
It is not teaching.
It is transmission.
Presence to presence.
Some people carry knowledge.
Some carry silence.
Some carry a craft honed over decades.
But very few carry a way of being
— one that steadies you,
grounds you,
and gently shifts your direction without saying a word.
3. Becoming Ourselves in the Presence of Another
We like to believe we shape our own lives through discipline and willpower.
And yes, we do.
But sometimes a single person —
their presence,
their patience,
their way of moving through the world —
tilts something inside us.
It could be a parent, a friend, a teacher, a writer, a stranger on a train.
Or, in my case,
a photographer whose way of seeing became a quiet anchor for a young man searching for himself.
We do not become ourselves alone.
We become ourselves through moments —
and through the people who stand inside those moments.
4. What Remains After the Moment Ends
The camera may no longer be borrowed.
The morning may have passed.
The river may be flowing somewhere else now.
But something stays.
A steadiness.
A clarity.
A different way of noticing the world.
You don’t forget the person who gave you your first lens —
not the lens of glass,
but the lens of attention.
5. Gratitude as a Path, Not an Emotion
Gratitude isn’t a feeling we perform.
It’s a quiet recognition of the threads that hold our lives together.
When I look at my path —
presence-based consulting, writing, photography, clarity work —
I can trace it back to that dawn in Varanasi.
To that borrowed camera.
To that moment.
To that person.
His way of seeing
changed mine.
And I’m still returning to the person I became that morning.
If this reflection speaks to you…
Think of one person
whose presence shifted your direction —
not loudly,
not dramatically,
but quietly,
by being who they are.
This blog is for them.
And for the next person you will quietly shift
without even knowing it.
Credits:
Photography: Raghvendra Singh · Vinay Kumar Yadav · Aniruddha Singh · Mahi Singh
Presence in Frame: Aniruddha Singh · Rajeev Singh · Ram Kishor Singh
Visual Direction & Edit: Aniruddha Singh