One Photo Please!

PHOTOGRAPHY IS OUR national passion. It’s in our genes, actually. Every single memory — happy or sad — is expressed in terms of photos. Hey, have you been to Agra? Haan yaar, went there for my honeymoon. Wait, I’ll show you the photos — right away comes a picture of the husband and wife standing in front of the Taj Mahal, holding hands and grinning. Pati, patni aur woh!

Now that’s what you call a photographic memory (no pun intended), don’t you?

‘Person’ and not the ‘place’ is all that matters while taking pictures — the golden rule of great Indian photography. You may visit anywhere — Delhi or Dubai, Varanasi or Vancouver — but do remember to take pictures with you in the frame. Always. The background is immaterial. You might be standing in front of the Taj, but more than the monument it’s you who is important. Shah Jahan’s creation might get out of focus, but not you. Never. Else you are in deep trouble — Arrey, you visited the Taj Mahal? Then how come you aren’t there in any of the photos? What’s the point in taking pictures of the monument only?

The logic is quite simple. Your photos act as a proof that you actually visited the place (yes, you read it correctly). Few weeks back a Facebook friend of mine uploaded some pictures of his trip to Delhi, and as expected he was present in each of them. No Red Fort, Qutab Minar, nothing. It was him everywhere. Looked as if the guy had done an entire photo shoot over there. In fact, had it not been for the lone India Gate in the background of one of his photos, I would have had enough reason to believe that the pictures were taken in the backyard of his house.

I wonder why people can’t concentrate on the beauty of the place (instead of their own) while taking snaps. Is it so important to make ‘human’ presence visible in each and every frame? Let your camera capture the splendour and picturesqueness of the place, the way it actually is. Why tamper it with artificiality? Good travel photography should attempt to capture the essence of the place, not mar its serenity with mindless look-at-me poses. I would any day prefer a snap of the Taj Mahal alone than that of an oh-so-romantic couple standing in front of the monument in an oh-so-appalling manner. The latter takes away the elegance of the subject (the Taj, that is) overcrowding it with unnecessary objects. However, this doesn’t mean that I’m against so-called ‘family vacation pictures’. They do conjure up fond memories of holidays. But can’t they be kept natural?

Unfortunately, in most of such pictures you’ll notice three distinct features: people standing in awkward ‘attention commandos’ posture, their eyes fixated on the camera lens and a stupid smile on their otherwise stiff faces — Everyone come closer... Dolly don’t move beta!... Pinku look at the camera and don’t blink... now all of you say cheese! Urghhh.

Posing for photograph — that’s something everyone (there’s no diversity in this unity) is quite fond of. And therefore you will find some of the most bizarre poses ever seen. I still remember a photo taken at the Taj Mahal where the husband and wife were facing each other with the Taj in between and — here comes the surprise — both their hands raised above in a gesture of touching the tip of the monument! A little trick photography can do such ‘monumental’ wonders (and you thought one needs to be a Raghu Rai to take mind-boggling snaps). Dumb.

I’ve long been labelled as a high-brow aantel by my family and friends since I refuse to take their pictures during our vacations. Ki shudhu rasta-ghat gaach-palar chhobi tule beras? Take our pictures too! — laments my mom often. But I’m glad there are still some people who think otherwise. During my recent trip to Delhi I met two elderly Iranian women, who asked me to take their photo with the Qutab Minar in the background. As I asked them to come closer in the frame, one of the women said, ‘Keep it like that. We are not important, the place is.’ Her statement said it all.

Shaktirupena Sansthita

THE COUNTDOWN HAS begun. The wait is in its final lap. The end of pitripaksha has ushered a new dawn — the dawn of devipaksha. With preparations almost over, there’s hardly a few days left. One more year, and its time again for homecoming — for Durga, as well as for millions of Bengalis, for whom the festival isn’t just another religious ceremony. It’s much more than that. So everywhere you go now, there’s just one emotion — aha ki anando akashe batashe. After all, Maa aschhe!

Durga puja — the grandest of all Bengali celebration. This is one occasion every Bengali — be in Kolkata or Kolhapur, New Delhi or New York ­— look forward to throughout the year. As soon as we get the year calendar, the first thing we notice is the schedule for Durga Puja, undoubtedly!

Recently I went to my para pandal to get a glimpse of the puja preparations. What I saw over there was amusing. The entire area looked like a scene of frenetic activity. Be it the panic-stricken club officials pacing up and down the field restlessly or the poker-faced labourers busy giving finishing touch to the pandal — I seemed to be amidst a whirlpool of frenzied activity. If this is how a puja pandal looks like, what would be the situation in the potters’ colony, I wondered. Curious to get a first hand experience, I visited Kumortuli a few days back (for toddlers, Kumortuli is the potters’ den of Kolkata — the place where the clay Durga idols are made). Well, Kumortuli wasn’t any different either. It’s the same hysteric hullabaloo, resembling the backstage minutes before the start of a fashion-show.

Nevertheless I got some snaps there that, when developed, turned out to be quite interesting. A slice of life at Kumortuli, these pictures give you a sneak peek inside the factory of idol-making. Though unfinished, these Durga idols appeared far more appealing to me than the ones in pandals. So as they say, pictures speak a thousand words than written alphabets, its time for me to shut up! Let the images do the rest of the talk. And hey, while checking out the pictures don’t forget to hum the best anthem of Durga puja ever made — Bajlo tomar aalor benu...

Here comes the Devi...

...And the city awakens

Waiting for the finishing touch

Durgatinashini

The goddesses' battalion

The journey begins... again

Tamaso maa jyotirgamaya

It's his puja too

Meghdootam

Pehli pehli baarish ki chheetein, pehli baarish bheege ho ho...

HAVE YOU EVER danced to this lilting Saathiya track? I’m sure you have. But then every song has a distinct mood and atmosphere associated with it. Just like you can’t play a Jai Santoshi Ma at the disc or a Beedi jalaile during the Republic Day celebration, this song too needs the right ambience to evoke its passionate charm.

Wondering what that picture-perfect setting would be? Well, let’s visualize a shot of the first monsoon day of the season. It’s raining cats and dogs outside accompanied by strong gusty winds. Venue: the roof terrace of a multi-storeyed. Enter hero and heroine, or more specifically, you and your girlfriend (for girls reading this, please change the gender). There’s no one else to be seen — just the two of you getting drenched in the sudden shower. In the background lies the rain-soaked skyline. Then lights, camera, music... and voila! Aye udi udi udi, aye khwabon ki buri... you’ll be amazed to find that you have already started grooving to the music — your feet following the rhythm and your heart humming the tune (those who are single, try out this song in the bathroom while taking a shower. It works. Trust me.)!

That’s the beauty of monsoon. It can turn the most insipid situation into a memorable one. May be I’m a bit exaggerating, but what else can I possibly do? I’m a die-hard rain-lover after all (I was perhaps a peacock in my previous birth)! Recently I had an hour-long rain bath in the year’s first kalbaisakhi that drenched Kolkata to a T. A few days later when I went to Delhi, lo and behold, the rains chased me there as well. This time it was a hailstorm!

The Kolkata kalbaisakhi has truly been an unforgettable experience. As soon as the storm broke, I went straight to the terrace, my camera in hand. Ignoring the high velocity of winds, I managed to get a few photographs that have turned out to be quite fascinating. Naturally, I had an overwhelming desire to share them! So here they are, categorized under the series Meghdootam (the name was too tempting to resist. Any resemblance to Kalidas's epic is entirely intentional and not coincidental!). Out of the five, the first three have been shot from my terrace during the kalbaisakhi and the other two were taken during my last trip to Ooty. As the monsoon is just round the corner, here’s a precursor to the celebration of the beautiful season ahead. Enjoy!

When darkness falls

Swept away

Blowing in the wind

The sliver lining

Barso re...