How The Pandemic, A Camera And Goa's Strays Led Rohit Chawla To 'Rain Dogs'

After captivating audiences in Goa and Delhi with his exhibition showcasing the lives of stray dogs on Goa’s beaches during the pandemic, photographer Rohit Chawla is now gearing up for the next chapter of Rain Dogs—his book that’s going to be launched in April.

Blending his evocative photos with essays by leading authors like Vikram Seth, Tishani Doshi, William Dalrymple, and Shashi Tharoor, the book transforms what began as an instinctive documentation into a record of resilience, survival, and the companionship between man and his best friend.

The proceeds from the book sales will be used to support animal welfare charities, and Chawla hopes Rain Dogs will drive meaningful change in the way stray dogs are cared for in our country.

He talks to Esquire India about the poetry of the stray, the serendipity behind his most striking frames, and why sometimes, the best subjects are the ones that wander into your life unannounced.

You’re one of the country’s leading contemporary photographers. What was it like shifting your lens to the forgotten community of stray dogs in Goa during the pandemic?

I spent two decades in advertising before moving into mainstream photojournalism and fine art photography. Most of my magazine covers, campaigns, and exhibitions seek political resonance. I’ve always seen news photography as more than just capturing a moment—for me, it’s more conceptual. It’s about creating awareness for causes that need public attention. Rain Dogs brings focus to India’s growing stray dog population and the urgent need for national-scale sterilization programs. But I didn’t want to create a tragic portrait of these intelligent animals. Instead, I sought to frame them against the poetic and graphic construct of Goa during its fabulous monsoon season.

During the pandemic, I was living alone in a Goa hotel room. My only real company were the stray dogs I met on my daily walks along the deserted beaches. They restored me and watching their inner lives and resilience up close during that bleakness was special and offered a kind of unspoken companionship.

You’ve said these images helped you process personal grief. Was there a particular moment with these dogs that felt like a turning point?

I lost a friend and my real sister to the pandemic in Delhi. There was a nationwide shortage of oxygen and medication at a particular time and we were making calls and pulling every possible string to get essential medicines flown in from the U.S.. Amidst all this, I watched these dogs, suddenly left to fend for themselves. Their untethered independence, their inborn resilience—it was overwhelming. I couldn’t look into their eyes without feeling a deep sense of guilt for seeing them completely abandoned.

That’s when I started photographing them, revisiting the same spots multiple times daily to document this imagery like a permanent record of those times. I took nearly 10,000 photographs, and at some point, I realised this wasn’t just a personal project anymore. My wife felt that it had became an obsession of sorts and actually cajoled me into doing a book and exhibition as a logical fruition of sorts.

One of the images stands out—a striking shot of a group of white shepherds standing in the ocean. What’s the story behind that frame?

That was pure serendipity. I came across a woman from Ahmedabad walking her five white shepherds along the beach. I asked if I could photograph them, and she agreed.

Unlike human subjects, these dogs couldn’t be directed or staged. Did that unpredictability change your approach as a photographer?

Nothing you see is rehearsed, planned, or staged. The props in these photos were brought in by high tides. The dogs had no fixed territories; they wandered relentlessly like sea nomads on the seemingly endless empty beaches. But on certain days, everything fell into place in an esoteric, surrealist construct. Those were the magic moments where the sea, the dogs, the endless rain conspired together to create poetry.

Your book also brings together 30 of India’s top writers. Was there a particular essay or story that resonated with you on a personal level?

I specifically chose writers who don’t just love dogs but also have a raw, unpretentious voice. Manu Joseph (journalist and author) wrote the incisive foreword as only he can.

All proceeds from the book go to animal charities in India. Do you think Rain Dogs could be a catalyst for real change in how we treat stray dogs?

When we launch the book on April 9, we plan to open up a larger dialogue on stray and indie dog welfare. I’ve noticed that, after movie stars and pop icons, dogs are the most-watched and photographed subjects on Instagram. My hope is that we can shift that fascination into real advocacy for these animals.