A Noble Death

Over the last few days there were some pieces of news going around the world. To most it would have been of no consequence. But to me, they were symbols of things I held dear, slowly passing away. The first was about a company that was synonymous with photographic films facing possible bankruptcy. The other was about bookshops slowly bowing out giving way to online retailers.

When I was home for the Christmas vacations, Mom made me clean up the mess I had accumulated over the last ten years. From the loft things were falling off – I had even single brochure printed in BITS for any fest. I had all the EPC articles that were published during the seven semesters I had been on campus and I had a bag full of DOPY snaps.

As I held the snaps in my hand, I realized that they meant so much more to me than on my laptop. There was an album with my favourite snaps which I had taken to Pilani in my first year – the one with my grandma, the one where C, S and I were standing together in the school in our uniforms for the last time.

And there was one with the favourite snaps I had of Pilani. One of them was of the two of us on our cycles standing just outside the Gyn G gates, the other was the famous 185 SK snap with C and A, the other was the 201 SK snap of the three of us.

As I held them in my hand I realized they were perishable, they were fading away but they would last me a lifetime and holding them felt so much more than watching them flash past on my laptop.

DOPY as I knew it has changed with the advent of digital cameras. And slowly probably the concept of taking snaps during the festivals be passé as everyone’s parents would have given them phones which have cameras that can take decent pictures to be put up on Facebook! That’s what people take snaps these days for anyways.

But then I read this blog post about how important are those snaps and how important it is for those physical copies of the photographs and I realized how we love to hold on to our memories.

Visiting to bookstores and printing a photograph might slowly be dying out but they are dying a Noble death. They did what they were supposed to achieve and they have left us with glimpses of our past. And I know I probably can order a book home at a much lower price but till the day the last bookstore stands I shall always buy from there. It’s stupid but then every man has his quirks.

Born Again

“You can close your eyes to things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.”

I wish I knew who wrote that. I wish I could write like that. But I don’t think I am capable of words that tug at your heartstrings. If I did, I would have used words to heal the scars. But even if words fail me, friends seldom do.

Sometimes you need to remember things that are important to you. And sometimes if you are lucky, then you get reminded about them at times you need them the most. Somewhere at the beginning of the year, I realized that it had been a long time since I had really laughed, really cared for anything outside work and life was seeming like a dreaded weekend to weekend to routine. Just then like a breath of fresh air they descended.

Led by the “Gaurav of The Kachhi Beer Drinkers”, they came one after the other. Sometimes they came with their friends, a few times there were friends of a friend and in their “just out of college” way of looking at things, my last few months in Mumbai took a life of their own. In those last few months, when almost every friend had been moving out of Mumbai, they came in as family.

Often life surprises you in strange ways, you never know how the bonds that you have created can come and lift you up from your self-inflicted misery, the bonds suddenly are no longer shackles but a pathway to a life that once was. It was during one of those times that one is confused that the newly anointed alums of the Department of Photography descended on Mumbai.

The words “DOPY blood” has been misused regularly for a variety of things. It’s sometimes used for people with general enthusiasm which is typically shortened to “Gen Enthu”, further shortened to “Genthu”. It’s sometimes (on those rare occasions when there are more than 3 people coming for the shifting work post a festival), just a sigh of relief from old timers who thank the lucky stars that the department will survive. But to me Dopy Blood means a calling that you can’t resist when you meet someone who once shared a passion that you did.

They made me shake off years of lethargy; sunrises in Mumbai had never been so beautiful and suddenly I was clicking again, with one of that age old cosina, shooting with films like I have always loved to.

Life had changed, the love for “writing with light” had returned and redemption was bestowed on a soul parched for what it loved to do.

Here’s To Dopy Blood. Here’s to a bond beyond words – with ink or with light.

And That’s When I Realized – Part II

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5. South Africa remains inspired by Gandhi in the vision of her Madiba; that’s what the common people call Nelson Mandela. And perhaps that’s why as the rest of Africa burns in their struggle, South Africa remains peaceful. And that’s because people like Rev. Desmond Tutu believed that he had the responsibility to forgive. Every guide in South Africa talks about the moment when Madiba came out of his prison and they knew that he would one day be the President. And that’s where I feel proud to have the man with a stick as the Father of My Nation.

And that’s when I realized, violence can never replace non violence.

6. We went on the biggest culinary journey I have ever taken, more experimentative than any I have ever done before with food. It started with Nandos and the peri peri sauce. The signature spice burst in my mouth was like multiple instruments creating an orchestra at high crescendo and I had ordered just the medium spicy. For the first time I was crying in front of my boss and he had nothing to do with it!!! We went across tasting the lobsters and prawns and the occasional vegetable dish, all through figuring out which side of the Atlantic the fish came from. The Langoustine remains the best prawn I have ever had. One day, the Bongs of the World would count The Codfather as their ultimate culinary destination. And then one night we searched for home food and landed in Jewel of India. It was definitely not the best Indian Food in the World but then after a week of staying away from home, it tasted heavenly.

And that’s when I realized, the taste of home is beyond any in the world.

7. We travelled like crazy in the only free time we had before we had to board the flight and we went ahead to view the most important spots of the country. The choice was between Nature and History and my city bred eyes have always picked nature without a second though when faced with this dilemma.  Table Mountain spread out an entire city beneath us, cradled between the mountain and the sea. The clouds did not descend on us but what we saw was worth it by itself. The sunset at Camp’s Bay, the Cape of Good Hope, the legend of the Flying Dutchman and the Chapman’s Drive, all of them took our breath away. I worked on my framing of my pictures and realized that slowly my own style had developed over the years. I have three distinct takes – portraits, which need a good camera and thus I need to wait for a good one; nature – I think I am getting better at it when there is no human interference and album – the pictures you want to show people back home. Now in the album art I know exactly how and where to focus on people, what should be the subject and how the background should look like and it was nice to go back to theory of photography once again. And all with a Point and Shoot. Good at least I have shutter speed and aperture to play with.

 And that’s when I realized, I never bought a digital SLR not just because I missed my old analog cameras but because deep down I knew a digital lens can never replicate what my eyes can see and hold in wonder.

A Wasted Passion

I am a decent photographer. The experiments I have done with film photography while at BITS are not entirely insignificant. There was always a dream; to buy the best camera available in the market when I finally start earning. My friends did it. But they turned prodigals. They were buying digital cameras. Somehow the DOPYite in me could just not accept the fact that they were going into something so non-human. The Department of Photography did give us memories of failure, memories of rolls after rolls going to waste by our negligence and yet we survived, and learnt photography for what it was worth. It’s true I couldn’t do much while at IIMB, but even the minutest opportunity I have had, I have ensured that I click like crazy, albeit with a digital camera. And as a very strong critique of myself I can say that though my sense of lighting hasn’t improved much,(and has been nothing to write home about) my composition and framing have not lost their magic. In fact, the pictures that I take with my phone are not bad at all.

Every time I speak to one of my friends from the Department after a long hiatus, I am reminded of my promise to myself. It’s like your first love. It’s always difficult to forget the first hands that you held in your own, as it is to forget the first shutter that you pressed and the first lens that you adjusted.

But I think these days I am ready to face myself much more ruthlessly and I realize that perhaps this dream will never be fulfilled. I shall always be buying cameras that can more or less do my work for me. But the search for my perfect camera is now hidden behind the shrouds. They say it’s sensible not to flaunt a new camera in the streets of a city you do not know much about. I say, it kills me slowly every time I flash out my cell phone to respond to that irresistible call to ‘write with light’. And then I delete what I captured.

The child is grown; The dream is gone;
Have I become Comfortably Numb?