In 2012, my parents and I moved to Mumbai from Delhi. We used to live in Nerul, Navi Mumbai, which was on the outskirts of Mumbai, and for the longest time, I struggled to make friends. Thanks to Facebook, I reconnected with a long-lost friend who happened to be 7-8 years older than me and was akin to family. When I got to know that he was coming to Mumbai and would visit Nerul to meet me, my heart was happy.
We met after almost a decade, and our love for each other rekindled like it was yesterday when I was sitting at his home playing games on his PlayStation.
During that evening, I learnt that my friend, or my brother, as I called him, was now a photographer and filmmaker. It was the first time that I met someone who was in this field. In those days, it was a big deal to pursue creative art of any kind.
I was spellbound by his stories, his travels, and, of course, by his brilliant work. A photo he clicked of me in Nerul that evening got me multiple likes and comments on Facebook, which was the highest form of currency for me at that point in time.
Tough times make for good memory. I remember so much from that 12-year-old evening even today for it was a horrible time for me and to have one happy moment amidst all of it was worth clinging to.
That day marked my first introduction to both photography and the photographer as a creative.
A year later, in 2013, I took my 11th final exam. After the exams were over and before the 12th started, I had a break of a few weeks. During that time, a friend of mine who was trying to learn photography by watching hundreds of GBs of tutorials illegally downloaded from torrent asked me to accompany him for shoots to be his subject.
So, I became part model and part assistant. Spending time with him and seeing him practice his craft so diligently made me wonder if photography was something that I could learn too.
Luckily for me, I didn’t have to wait too long to find the answer to that question. I already had a photographer in the family. A quick call with him left me motivated, inspired, and energised to try to learn photography too. Phone photography wasn’t a concept back then, and the DSLR cameras were an expensive affair.
I didn't want to spend a fortune on something, not knowing whether I would practice it well or not. My brother walked me through the process, and when news came in that my father's colleague wanted to sell his bridge camera, a 17-year-old buyer was already present in the market.
This camera was bulky, complex, and intimidating. However, seeing the world through the viewfinder brought me immense joy. I used to feel creative holding it. The only time I remember using it well was on a coastal trip to Malvan, Maharashtra. While my family and other people on the trip with us were busy talking to one another, I would be found bent in different poses trying to capture a good shot. More than the photos, I loved how holding the camera made me feel. I felt powerful, confident, and even sexy. I felt like I mattered. I felt important.
Eventually, I got busy with my 12th board exams, and I forgot about the camera, which was locked in my wardrobe for a long time and yearned to be used.
Quite soon in college, I got hold of my first iPhone, an iPhone 5s. It was the first iPhone of my family and, to all of us, the biggest electronic purchase. I sold off my old phone, the bridge camera, and another old tab that was not in use to buy the iPhone.
I did feel a bit guilty buying such an expensive phone at that time, but looking back, I am so glad I did. Having the iPhone meant having a camera in my pocket. The excellent quality of this little camera was better than my bulky, heavy bridge camera any day.
In 2015, I visited Kashmir for the first time, and I clicked a thousand photographs of everything I saw there. The shikhara, the Dal Lake, the mosques, the food, the people, the snow, the greenery, and everything that caught my eye. It was on this trip that the beautiful process of photography moved me. I would spend hours just looking at everything from the viewfinder and wanting to capture every moment that I was a part of. The camera felt like a time machine, allowing me to record and save the precious moments that I was a part of, only to be relished and relived later.
A couple of months later, during my college summer break, a friend and I visited Himachal, where, again floored by the mountains and the excitement of my first non-parent trip, I shot photos left, right, and centre.
While both these trips were memorable and I had a great time photographing them, it wasn’t until I met my brother again in May 2015 that things changed for me. I was so excited to show him all the photographs and tell him all about both my trips.
When I was telling him about my trip and showing him the photographs, he sat silently listening to me with patience and excitement. Once I was done sharing, he congratulated me on the photographs and told me about this app called Instagram. He told me how people there share their photographs and stories like I was sharing with him. He said that I too could be a part of that community and share my stories there. Of my travels, of college life, Mumbai and all that was going on with me.
I was a bit hesitant. I wasn’t a photographer, let alone writing stories. What did I know? I was just a 2nd-year college student studying economics. I had zero talent to show on a platform like this.
Prompted by my well-intentioned brother and being so full of stories that I knew an outlet would help, I joined Instagram and started sharing my work online.
It didn’t take me long to realise that what my brother had recommended to me was truly life-changing. I had always felt like a talentless kid all my life. I was bad at sports, had no creative talent, and was average in my studies. I yearned to call something my hobby, my passion, something I could call my own. This newfound activity of storytelling was growing on me as my friends and people I met online were so appreciative of my work and all that I was writing about. People loved my writing more than my photographs, and an entirely new domain and possibility opened up for me there. To also experiment with writing.
For the first time in my life, I was being complimented for my work, for my creativity, for my talent, and I saw within me a very core need fulfilling. A need to feel important, creative, and, above all, needed.
My first Instagram post, May 2016
With time, I got more serious with Instagram and started seeing it as work. I used to shoot every day, share photographs, and learn from others.
I didn’t have a camera all this while. I was just shooting from my phone. I took the liberty to borrow a camera from my brother multiple times and even a very dear friend.
This very dear friend was also my photography teacher. Simran had done a photography course during the summer break during college, and she also had a camera. I vividly remember that afternoon after college when we went on a photo walk together and she taught me all about the camera, the exposure triangle, the lighting, and focusing, among other things. She was also kind enough to let me borrow her expensive camera and lenses. I still wonder how loving and compassionate one can be to let their friend borrow such expensive gear. But then again, that’s just how she has always been. Giving and loving.
Photography also had an interesting spillover effect on me. I started writing to compliment my photographs, which helped me be regular with writing, and I started travelling so that I could photograph more often, so I became an explorer.
After college, I took an adventurous solo trip to Spiti Valley with my brother’s borrowed camera as my only companion, this was a huge leap for my journey as a photographer and traveller. I had seen so many photographs of Spiti and I just felt like going there to click some magic myself. Looking back I feel that my eyes and my vision was not independent as an artist. I shot what I had already seen being shot in the valley. I went all the way to Spiti to click the same things that I saw others click. For me, that is what photography meant. I lacked a voice and I lacked the knowledge to realise that. I don’t blame myself, that’s just how it goes.
Post graduation and the trip, I joined the Teach for India fellowship, where photography, writing, and social media all came together to help me narrate stories of my classroom. I didn't know it back then, but that was a very powerful thing to do. When I wanted to raise funds for my classroom, people I barely knew on Instagram came forward to help just because they had seen so many of my stories from school.
That's when I first understood and felt the power of photography from a storytelling point of view. I became more and more intentional with my work as a photographer.
I took a few short workshops, I shot photos and videos for some organisations, and I spent all my weekends going on photo walks alone or with photographer friends.
I was in love with photography but I never felt the need to make a career out of it in the traditional sense. I never wanted to get into shooting weddings, events, or other corporate shoots. Not that there is anything unworthy in pursuing them, but just that I wanted to have total autonomy and freedom of my craft. Photography was my way of expressing myself, and I wanted it to just be that.
A turning point came during the end of my Teach for India fellowship when I decided to start a photography and storytelling club in school. It made sense to offer whatever I had learnt to my students. 24 of my students joined the club, and we together learnt and tried to understand photography from a storytelling point of view.
By the end of the 3 months, the students had put together a wonderful exhibition for everyone to visit and see. That was my most proud moment as an educator and photographer. My only regret in life has been not formally pursuing it. The opportunity to teach what I so dearly loved made me fall in love with the craft all the more. To prepare the curriculum and lessons for my students I ended up learning so much myself. Further, the questions and curiosity of my students helped me think of photography in ways I had not imagined.
During COVID-19 locked up at home, photography helped me to express myself and exhibit the mix of emotions that I was feeling. I started a self-portrait project named “Mom, I am fine” where I attempted to express myself through photographs. That has been my most intimate work to date. I still wonder how and where I got the courage to express myself the way I did, but then again, it was COVID, and that was the only hope I had.
In 2022, after I left my job and went on a 3-month solo motorcycle trip, upon coming back, I sold a few of my photographs as prints and calendars. Seeing so many of my friends who had been with me throughout my photography journey support me was touching. I could feel that there was an opportunity to be a fine art photographer, wherein I use photography not as a means to an end but the end itself. Where I could use photography as a purely artistic expression. A way to narrate stories through a series of photographs. I imagined pursuing photography as an artistic endeavour.
Photography now has become like second nature. I see a frame, I shoot it, and if I feel like it, I share it. I did buy a camera eventually in 2018 and used it quite. a lot, but now I shoot exclusively on my iPhone 13, which is an excellent device. I love how simple, handy, and fast it is.
This year since I moved to Bir, I have been taking good photographs, but I still felt that there was more to be explored. It is easy to take good photographs in a place that is already so beautiful. Even if I close my eyes and take a random shot, it will still be nice, for the mountains are so pretty all around me. I am not saying that I wasn’t effortful or intentional with my work, but it did feel like I was being served the photographs on a plate.
After my TFI fellowship, I yearned to teach storytelling and photography again. Luckily I got the chance to go to Pune to teach photography and writing to students of Akanksha Foundation. On the same trip, a close friend of mine decided to surprise me with the best gift ever! A film camera!
Lately, photography has become bastardized. It has almost become mindless. Clicking photos at the click of a button with new-age devices seems to have lost the charm of creating a photograph. The patience to wait for a moment is replaced by taking multiple shots in the hope that one of them would be good enough. I have been through this phase as well, and while I did end up getting some good photos, I don't seem to remember how I felt in that moment or what efforts I had to take to CREATE that photograph.
Along with writing and storytelling, what has been most alive in me in the past few months is the pursuit of mindful photography.
The idea is to use all senses, observe things around, and wait for the right moment to take a photograph. If the subject is not special enough, I let it go. As a standard rule, I also like to limit myself to taking a specific number of shots, 3-5 at max. This beautiful piece of vintage art allows me to be more mindful and slow with photography, exactly what I wanted.
Recently, I decided to take another very interesting workshop, “Tell a Story” by Indrajit Khambe, one of my most favourite photographers. His photos are stories in themselves, and I am not saying it as a cliche but an actual observed fact. His photos carry mystery, life, and a lot of depth. What I always loved the most about him is the fact that he never had to travel across the country or to exotic locations to shoot, but he finds exotic things at his home, within his family, his surroundings, and his village, which deeply inspired me.
For the past month, I have been his student, and honestly, I feel this is the start of a new journey for me, photography 2.0, where I dive into photography all over again, almost like a monk having to instil an immense amount of patience, intent, and discipline to acquire truth and knowledge.
I have been extremely lucky to have excellent mentors in my photography journey, starting with my dearest brother Vivek, who is my favourite photographer and mentor, Neenad sir, Aslam sir, Indrajit sir and my friend Simran.
Photography now is all about slowing down, meditating, practicing, and being disciplined. The idea is to see more, walk more, wait more, slow down, and shoot with the heart, eyes, and the entire body.
While I now carry the label of a writer proudly and I am one, I will always be a photographer first.
I invite you to reflect and write on the following prompt:
In case you wish to write about something different, please go ahead.
The invitation is to write and enjoy the process.
As a feature of all my newsletters, I share one song, one book, one plant-based meal, one film/video that inspired me, and some photographic updates from my life.
Song: I have been listening to Kab se Kab tak these days. A song from Gully Boy!
Book/Newsletter: My favourite writer -
’s newsletter on ageing got me thinking about my relationship with my age and growing up. Like always, it’s a great read.
Meal: I have been enjoying these as my breakfast + coffee combo. Healthy, filling and so tasty! Do give it a try if you can. It’s just rice cake + peanut butter + banana and a sprinkle of flax seeds. Let me know if you end up trying it :)
Film/Video: A friend recommended me this Mallu film called Bangalore Days. It’s a mix of comedy, drama, social commentary and so many mix of emotions. I enjoyed watching it. I also watched another Mallu film called Super Deluxe. Great plot, excellent storytelling and a film of immense depth.
Photograph: This newsletter has been all about photographs so I am just sharing this one that I took this week on an evening photo walk.
Hope you have a brilliant day and week ahead. Thank you for reading.
Great account of your photographic journey, both in word and image. Good to see that old Spotmatic, too. My passion for film photography was reignited back in early 2019, part.y by my Mother giving me a roll of Fuji film and my eldest son (who also shoots film) prompting me to give it a go again. It'd
s been something of a 'rabbit hole' ever since..
Thanks for sharing🙂