Ajay Narsingh Rana grew up in Kathmandu’s urban jungle. His father Mohan Narsingh designed postage stamps, using photographs of impeyan pheasants, ghoral, and butterflies to convert them into line drawings on tissue paper and printed on tiny stamps depicting Nepal’s rich biodiversity.
Rana’s uncle was a forester from whom he was inspired to look out for flora and fauna in tiny green pockets still left in the city. Growing up in a household that maintained a closeness to the natural world and images portraying it laid the foundation of what was to become Rana’s lifelong passion: photographing Nepal’s biodiversity.
He took up mountain biking and hit the trekking trails, pedalling deep into the wilderness of the mountains and plains. He always had his camera handy, but says one does not even have to be a technically proficient photographer to take good pictures in Nepal — the country is already so photogenic.
While international photographers concentrated on the megafauna like tigers and elephants, Rana was fascinated by what his macro lens could capture. He zoomed in on tiny creepy crawlies, discovering their vibrant colours, unique textures, and shapes hard to see with the naked eye.
The Covid lockdown of 2020 and the restrictions on travel allowed him to capture nature in its minutest detail in the small patch of greenery near his home in Kathmandu. As expected it was buzzing with insects, arachnids, worms, butterflies, grasshoppers, of all shapes, sizes and colours.
It was the monsoon six years ago, and there were even the carnivorous larvae of fireflies crawling about devouring snails in the undergrowth. An open space that many would not even give a second glance to as they drove past was a treasure trove of life.
