Some blame my genes for my love of photography. I blame my obsession with nostalgia and the need to capture every single frame that was once projected into my eyes. It began not a very long time ago. But then again I may be quite wrong. As far as I remember I was always the one who was handed the camera to take all the family pictures. I don’t know if it was a subconscious trait I had or my family’s blind trust. But hey, I don’t remember ever clicking a half-headed picture. Maybe I had the eye for it, but I can’t be too sure and resort to vanity can I? Humility is what I believe in.
It was not until my first trip to Corbett that I held a Single Lens Reflex camera. It was the Nikon FM2 on of the best camera’s ever made by Nikon. Of course it belonged to my dad, who was almost into photography for 20 years by that time. Still he never pursued it professionally. As he had told me, his first camera was the Pentax K1000 which got stolen around 1991, the year I was born, and hence he had to lay off his favourite hobby for 10 years because he just couldn’t afford another camera. I still remember the first shot I ever took with that camera; it was a burnt tree, savaged by forest fire. It wasn’t exposed enough but it was crystal clear and mega sharp. And since then I couldn’t restrain myself from taking pictures, irrespective of camera make, model or type.
I have shot with Nikon Automatic Film cameras, Olympus Automatic film cameras, Nikon Digital cameras and what not. My dad always had the fascination for cameras and hence he kept buying more and more. Then finally he bought the D80 and it was love at first sight for me. I remember cuddling it to death the first time I ever held it in my hands. I don’t have any suitable words to describe the feeling. I almost felt like I was touching blissful oblivion. I was in a trance. I snapped out of it, opened the lens cap, switched on the camera and pressed the shutter. And after that I never could stop myself.
Seeing my love for photography Dad bought me my very own first camera, a Semi-DSLR the Nikon P80. From thereon I just kept clicking and never let anyone else hold the camera. I became as possessive about the camera as the Gollum had become about Sauron’s Ring. It was my own, my precious. I carried it everywhere I went, experimented as much as I could with it, I still do. It was one of the best phases of my life. But then Dad bought the Nikon D90 and that was overkill. I was speechless, had no words. I was totally at a loss, of words, of emotions and even fell short of tears. I started clicking with it, started putting the pictures online for others to see. People started appreciating my work; it gave me the motivation to better myself. I uploaded more, people liked it more. And I kept fighting with myself to make myself better. To outdo myself, I do so every day.
Some of you may think that most of these are falsifications, think what you may I believe only in the outmost truth, and this is it. Finally after uploading my pictures on public forums for such a long time I have decided to give Photography a shot as a possible career path. And I need help from all of you guys. It’s a very humble request to all those reading this. Please spread the word about my work and also my page on facebook. I thank you all from the farthest reaches of my heart for being there for me. Love you all.
The Delhi Photo Walk was just playing upon an idea or rather a dream of sorts, which I had long ago. It involved getting people, who are interested in photography, together and having a long discussion of sorts without the confinement of a room. It happened almost like a sudden freak storm.Suddenly one day I asked Dhruv how the idea of a mass photowalk seemed to him. He got as excited as me with the idea in his. ‘Let’s do it?’ I asked him and pop came the reply, ‘Yes’. And so the journey began.
We got to spreading the word about the walk on Facebook and Twitter, the two most notable social media giants of this day. Then came the questions, some criticism and surely some people trying to push us down by calling our initiative a debasement of the ethics of photography. But a rebel spark had etched itself onto my skin and it wouldn’t quieten down quite as easily. Day by day the number of confirmations I received on Facebook, Twitter and Phone began to grow. It had almost hit double digits and it began to worry us. ‘Where and how the hell are we going to organize so many people?’ But we had a reassurance that not everyone who’s confirmed their attendance actually turns up, so we assumed a measly 50%. But even that summed up to 50 odd people. We had to keep ourselves calm and in running order.
Finally the day came. We had reached the place, Central Secretariat Metro Station in time but there was a massive problem with the parking. The only place to park was around a kilometre away from the meeting point. With no other option left we parked our two cars and decided to walk down that one kilometre to meet everyone else. The one thing that we had missed was an Ice-Breaking session and that made the initial phase quite boring but then as most humans we eventually got around to talking with everyone involved. And then all went as smoothly as possible. The walk ended two hours later and I can quite surely say that it was a success.