Behind the Saree and the Suit: The Real Shoot

Our first thought as soon as we exited the airport was simply, “Wow.” After hours of flying back and forth, we had finally made it to our dream destination. Mountains soared all around us in the distance. We could feel just how high up we were, and yet, walking casually out of the airport to meet our driver felt almost surreal. The air felt so fresh regardless of the fact that we were travelling for so long. We all looked exhausted, but smiles broke through the fatigue. The view was far too good to let tiredness win. On the short fifteen-minute drive to our hotel, I admired the little shops and watched the locals interacting with one another. Ladakh seemed full of innocent, neutral souls. Everyone moved with a quiet peace — from business owners to school children to neighbors chatting by the roadside. Our hotel was an intimate little place tucked into a corner of Ladakh near the market. As we approached, I reflected on the diversity I had already seen: Hindus, Muslims, and Buddhists. And then, right next to the hotel, I spotted a young Sikh boy, maybe fourteen years old. The sight brought a smile to my face. All religions living together so peacefully — something the world doesn’t offer very often these days. We stayed in this hotel for just one night before heading to our first shoot location the next morning. I think there were fewer than eight rooms in total, five of which were on the first floor — three taken by us. The rooms were small but charming, filled with local character. From the windows, you could see the mountains stretching endlessly. But if you looked closer, there was more to notice: workers, builders, neighbors, and bits of construction. It was a mosaic of daily chaos painted against a backdrop of breathtaking mountains. Poetic, almost.

Our trip to Sangam began early in the morning, at 6:30 a.m. My fiancée woke me up, and—true to form—I reacted moodily at the thought of having to get up and actually do what we’d come to Ladakh for. But there was no way around it; it was time to get going. While her friend worked on her hair and makeup, I showered and then waited… and waited. Honestly, I could have slept for another hour and still been ready on time. The things women do to look good! That said, I have to admit—although it took ages, she looked stunning. I hadn’t expected much from her friend’s handiwork, but credit where it’s due: job well done.

Since I’m a foreigner, I had to take a private car to cross the checkpoint, while the others went through border control. We met again on the other side, I switched cars, and off we went for another half an hour. The mountains began to open up, with streams of water cutting through the valleys far below. One of them, we were told, flows all the way into a valley in Pakistan—which suddenly made the view feel even more surreal. After a few bends in the road and plenty of “wow” moments from me, we finally arrived at Sangam Point. This was where the rivers met. The water wasn’t crystal clear, but it rushed smoothly between the bases of the mountains. The rocky slopes, in shades of deep brown and ochre, stood in striking contrast to the muted colour of the river. I told myself it was probably from the natural erosion of the rocks… though, let’s be honest, pollution might have had a hand in it too. Either way, the scene was dramatic and oddly peaceful at the same time—like chaos flowing in harmony.

I grabbed my suitcase and headed to the changing rooms to get into my suit. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, my fiancée stood there—eyes on me at first, but then I caught sight of her. She was draped in a stunning red saree, radiating elegance with every step. I was in awe. I might have been in a black tuxedo, but she was the star of the show. She loved how it all came together, I loved it even more—and soon enough, even the other tourists around us were admiring her almost as much as the landscape itself.We spent the next hour doing all the “pre-wedding shoot” things: posing, smiling, laughing, recording, and generally being cute. I even managed to startle her a couple of times—a guilty pleasure I enjoyed far more than I should admit. But above all, we were having fun, and that’s what mattered most.After wrapping up the first round of photos, we changed outfits and set off towards our next stop: Magnetic Hill.

Magnetic Hill was just ten minutes away from Sangam, famously described as the place that “defies gravity.” The story goes that if you leave a vehicle in neutral, it appears to roll uphill, seemingly pulled against the force of nature. In reality, it’s an optical illusion—the layout of the surrounding slopes and the horizon tricks your eyes. The road is actually slanting downhill, but your brain swears you’re watching it climb. We decided to wander slightly further up the hill, away from the other tourists, to capture better shots. The landscape felt almost otherworldly—like stepping into an Australian desert. Sand and rocks stretched out around us in endless shades of brown and yellow, fading into the distance. Stark, raw, and strangely beautiful. Illusion or not, the hill made the perfect backdrop for our shoot. Simple, surreal, and exactly the kind of scene that turns a video into a memory.

A deserted, straight road leading uphill—our photographers had only one romantic, cinematic shot in mind. The classic slow-motion run down the centre of the road, gazing into each other’s eyes, lost in admiration, love, and smiles. So adorable, right?
For the sake of the video, we needed multiple takes—both with the drone and the camera—so walking up and running down the hill again and again became unavoidable. Unfortunately for my fiancée, despite her beautiful, model-like figure, she has the cardio of a broken-down rickshaw trying to climb a hill. To be fair, we were already at high altitude… but still, she was struggling. I quickly found myself playing the role of cheerleader. As for the smiles and laughter we were supposed to radiate for the video, they soon disappeared. At one point, in desperation, I resorted to making ridiculous animal noises just to coax a laugh out of her. It worked—but running downhill in fits of laughter only left her even more exhausted. In the end, we pulled it off. After a few more shots and some sweet little video clips, we wrapped up and made our way to the Gurdwara, just five minutes down the road.