Another way of telling

Yesterday, I found myself amidst quite a struggle. Perhaps this will sound selfish, perhaps altogether inane, but I'll share it with you nonetheless. 

In Blossom (the best book shop in Bangalore, or the world for that matter) yesterday, I was looking for a book on photography to give as a present. Not the usual "how to take good pictures" kind of stuff, but really "something more" without knowing what this "more" was. Well, I absolutely stumbled upon this book (nothing quite explains why I was drawn to something that didn't strike a chord at all, at first). As I walked myself through the first few pages, I found that this was it. It really was just the book I'd been looking for. Every page enthralled. I was in love. There was no question of "to buy or not to buy".

Yet, now the question was - "to keep or not to keep". I felt rather shameless reconsidering, and for the thought of getting another book for my friend (after all, I reasoned, how was I to know if she'd love this one just as much as I did.) The truth is, though, that it didn't matter. In a second, I realized that as soon as the decision was made - I'd always feel terrible if I kept it, and I'd always feel happier if I brought myself to part with it for good reason. Thence the doubt disappeared. Doubt is like that, isn't it? It just disappears.

Anyway, it is still a book I'd recommend highly to you all (I intend to buy it right away!)- if photography interests you, even as a faraway subject. It also encouraged me to document my own journey as a photographer a little better. There is such immense joy in discovering another go through the same questions as oneself.  Narcissists we are indeed!

This post was meant to be about a landmark on this journey, not so much about photo at a meta-level, but perhaps next time. Good night, all!

What makes a good picture?

Honestly, I don't know. But it's a good thing to think about I realize, for there is certainly something in it that comes from a very deep location - the something that decides the what and how to click and the what and how to pick.

Photophilia

I said in my post last evening that I discovered photography anew. More detached now, I realize that this happens often... and feels no different from discovering a new side to someone we know well. Yet, our love grows in leaps and bounds as we discover these new sides, and so it is with me and the camera. Taking a picture becomes much like taking in a sip of water then, and yesterday, I had been in the desert for days, it seemed. As N gave me the liberty to click indiscriminately, I found my energy levels rise slowly, and a fullness prevailed within. It is lovely to be able to capture sights, and the potential potency of a visual capture is really something else. [Yesterday, we talked about how I am forever at a loss for descriptors these days, such that everything is "really something" or "really something else". I can't remember to whom or when though!]

I am helped by the existence of a dear friend from Bangalore (well, at least one, at any rate). While I walk the streets of the city, I do my best to step out and into her shoes - wondering what would make her nostalgic, what would move her as a 'gift' from home, what is the closest I could bring her to home and how? Thank you camera, thank you smugmug, for allowing me to reach her thus :). (And thank you P, for helping me exercise this ability!)

On the way back to Yelahanka, I reflected on a thought process I'd had on M.G. Road. I heard a girl say on the phone, "I'll hang up now, it's really crowded here and my cellphone could get stolen." And here I had an expensive camera generously on display. For a second I wondered if I ought to be more careful. But I had considered that option, packed in my camera, then taken it out again, dismissing the concern. In just a few minutes of walking empty-handed, my fingers had itched, and my eyes had longed for the viewfinder - to capture the richness of the street scenes.

There'd been a time (a very long time) when I was terribly possessive about the camera, and would be extra-alert when it was handled by someone else. I'd also carry the bag with me everywhere, so as to ensure that it was never stolen. Even the thought of it being stolen was uber-painful then. Now, there is no anxiety on that count. I frequently offer it to others to click with (including my four-year old niece and photographer-in-training, though the strap goes around her twice to adjust to her size :). I also embrace the possibility of it getting stolen one of these days, as I click in crowded rural/urban streets indiscriminately. It seems not to bother me at all (and this when I earn a fifth of what I did then!).

A comparison of these two attitudes led me to wonder if one was decidedly better than the other. The latter brings more peace, but does it also make me less attentive, more lax? And even if I was possessive before, I was devoted to the care of the camera, I tended to it as a mother to a child (well, almost). For any two choices, if one involves peace, that's where my pull is, yet it is instructive to realize that it is not all black and white, ever. No shortage of the grey. In fact, ye to "thoos thoos ke bhara hai" (as Qawwal Farid Ayaz would say).

MG Road on a Saturday

Inspired by Kabira Khada Bazaar Mein, I headed out to M.G. Road (oh dear, that was a terrible attempt, but so very close...). My belief in the spontaneous making of plans served me well, and N and I overcame various hurdles to finally meet. After 21 years. It is amazing to see the ways in which people change, and just as amazing to see the ways in which they don't. I saw the same eyes, the same smile, similar height difference perhaps, but a very different spirited friend. It was, in all, a lovely sight to behold, and I was happy just to look and listen. Of course, a camera was involved as well.

Rewind. After an inexplicably tearful afternoon, I headed out to town with only an objective of indulging in city sights, and in solitude. Although I'd carried my camera out of habit, I had no desire then to click. Another one of those things I mechanically forced myself to do (carry, that is). There is something to be said for energy-inducing inspiration though... as we crossed M.G. Road and I saw the construction workers at the Metro site, I felt a sudden surge to take a picture of them. And so the photography began, as though for a first time. [Photos to be posted on Smugmug in no time.]

Blossom was the only plan I'd had, but it must now wait until next time. As I waited at Barista for N, I saw a gentleman give me a kindly look and smile. I wondered if I knew him from elsewhere, but couldn't quite place him. As I returned a half-confused smile and walked on further, I saw the reason for his smile - his digital SLR. Interesting, is it not - this understanding so tacitly shared between photographers? Or the lovers of any art, for that matter. We are polyglots without even knowing it.

refining the mind's eye

thinking about photography led to an insight which, if i have mentioned before, do forgive my most un-photographic memory:

i've often said that in a photo, it's the responsibility of the photographer to bring out the greatest beauty in the subject (as opposed to it being the subject's problem). so when a photo is technically good, but not flattering to the subject, i'd say it was a photo ill-taken. the ongoing effort then has been to refine that photographer's eye so as to capture beauty to the highest degree possible, with every scene, in every circumstance.

it's true that there's no way to determine 'best' or 'highest' in any objective fashion. and so the most i can offer is that i do the best/highest as far as possible, given my current and ever-changing state of knowledge and experience, and with single intent.

should translation from the photographer's eye to the mind's eye be so hard? so that all that is captured, iteratively, is the beauty that is utmost?

[clarification: i refer to translation as from being with a camera to being without a camera. just as the photographer's eye attunes itself iteratively to seeing the greatest beauty, so would i like the mind's eye to attune itself iteratively.]

all hieroglyphics

being a photographer, the visual medium speaks to me ceaselessly and with inexhaustible joy. understandable that these lines below really called out to me, to that hopeless photographer within.

"Everything in this world has a hidden meaning, I thought. Men, animals, trees, stars, they are all hieroglyphics; woe to anyone who begins to decipher and guess what they mean. ... When you see them you do not understand them. You think that they are really men, animals, trees, stars. It is only years later, too late, that you understand." 

- Nikos Kazantzakis (Zorba the Greek)

... and also to listen

a friend sent me this bout of inspiration in an email this morning:

"Somebody once told me to always keep eyes and ears open - you never know what you will miss..."

i've been thinking about this much, of late. if i weren't now so accustomed to divine coincidences and ordinary miracles :), i'd have filled with joy over this coincidence alone (i secretly did!). wise men over the years have, no doubt, talked to great extents about detaching from sense objects, being mindful of sense perceptions going out of control, etc. while i understand and agree with it all, i feel not enough is said about how these senses are, in fact, our agents of change. the more we submit ourselves to these senses, the more we are able to see ourselves as one with the beauty that this earth embodies.

as i think about this in terms of my own life, i recall when i first embraced a camera. when i'd see something that struck me as beautiful, i'd want to photograph it. over the years, this habit evolved into (in some ways) its opposite. now whether i have my camera on me or not, i've cultivated the tendency to look at any field of view and think of how, i.e. through what perspective and in what lighting etc., its beauty may best be brought out. having started from appreciating beauty that was most apparent, my eyes now seek out the beauty that may oft be latent in everyday sights. i am grateful to photography for, literally, opening my eyes thus.

the same, i realize, applies to music as well. i started with a cursory interest in melody and a cursory desire to reproduce the obviously pleasant sounds that i heard. when i was 9, i was in love with la isla bonita. i sang it everywhere and all the time - in school, in front of aunties and uncles, in the bathroom. there was also oye oye, and katra katra. over the years (and far more so in recent months), i've arrived at the understanding that this love for music, for singing and listening to singing, has helped me reach an analogous state to the above - of being given a musical composition where i must go discover the joy of how best to appreciate it - is it the voice? the instrumentation? the harmonies? etc. know what i mean? i am grateful then, for all this music in the world, that has opened my ears thus.

now all i need to do is hold them open :). and i wish you the best with the same. happy friday!

smiling faces

*sigh*

i just uploaded pictures from n's party on saturday, and found myself admiring them over and over. there is so much joy to be gained, truly, from seeing the smiling faces of those we love (as a said too). one wishes such times would never end, that life could be a series of unending beautiful smiles. here's a poem by hafiz that i'd like to leave you with. would you please oblige?

Scratching My Back

You
Can think of Hafiz as a divine
Old dog

Who just keeps scratching his back
On the Moon.

O, I don't care about your thoughts
Or what you have ever done,

Just open up this book whenever you are
Sad

For I love the way you
Smile!

on worry-free expression

i made a decision last wednesday when i spent some time thinking about singing, and how i was always too conscious, too uncomfortable, too afraid to sing before people. i know i'm not an excellent singer, but it's not about that - it's not about how well or not well i sing. it's about attaching myself to the fruit of my action, or not. it's about recognizing the root cause of fear and uprooting it, or not. it's really about recognizing that what's critical is to sing one's best and from one's heart. that as much as possible, may the best note and the best inspiration win. there the story ends.

my decision therefore was to never again fuss about singing, but to try to oblige to the best of my ability, no matter who asked. surprising indeed that as soon as i made this decision, i was tested four times in four days!

it is indeed liberating to not have to worry about 'what people think'. not to say that it isn't important for us to keep in mind what they will think, but that it is beyond our circle of influence to control what they will think. the best we can do is to be sensitive and thoughtful, act according to our dharma, and pray that it will not offend, without attaching worry to the same. remember hafiz's poem on purity?

and the same applies to my other art pursuits - photography and writing. i find that i no longer worry about how people react to my photos, to my posts. there is no great desire to impress, therefore there is no great fear of not impressing. there is, however, a great comfort that comes from honest expression, and a great desire to do justice within. but the latter falls in my circle of influence, and all is well with the world.

the moral, i think, is to scrutinize with a microscope the fears that lurk inside and to transform them by first identifying their root cause.

friday night

the week has ended, and with that, a week of fasting as well. on sunday night, i decided to fast until friday. true that the navratra period is on, but that was not why i fasted. there was a connection i needed to make, and a distance i needed to walk. i think now that it helped. i look forward to eating lunch tomorrow :).

and then we saw two movies today. the plan was to see one, but that one was so bad, we needed to make amends. the first was my wife's murder. i have to admit it carried only 20% of my attention with it. that 20% was not very worth the while though :). we followed it with the other end of the line. that was quite the entertainer (and i was really pleased to be entertained, after a series of chilling sitting-on-the-edge-of-the-seat types) and is highly recommended. especially for the cinematography - i would kill for some of the scenes in the movie. (that is to say i would kill to take such captures.)

[and as this week comes to an end, i also realize that very soon i'll be calling myself a second-year phd student. can it be? do years pass by just like that? will it, in no time, be time to graduate? at least i've taken the time to stop and stare though, this year. for now, i shall revel in that :).]

a confession

as you may've read, i was at holi last saturday, and was able to take a lot of photos. it was a lovely and fulfilling experience. colors were rich, and the photos needed little or no post-processing to come out vibrant and appealing. i clicked freely and immersed in the experience, but the appeal of the photos has naught to do with my photographic skills, however existent or non-existent they may be. i am thus undeserving of the attention and praise they have received. the photos are good purely because the circumstances allowed it. i did nothing other than record what was and present it to the world.

there. i am happy to have that off my chest. i love photography and the ways in which it allows me to express myself, entirely unparalleled. but i have no desire for credit i do not deserve. (and this is certainly not intended to be a self-deprecating post so that you may shower me with flattery :). please.)

the afternoon walk

was beautiful today. although the weather forecast had predicted rainfall, the sky outside is a perfect blue and the sun shines bright. the 2-3.30 slot on tuesdays and thursdays finds room in between classes for contemplation, and today i loved the leisurely walk to nefeli and back, especially the part where i unexpectedly ran into the most photogenic view of the campanile - against the blue of the sky and the green of the trees on memorial glade. spring is already here at the memorial glade, in fact, as trees burst into flowers pink and white.

sometimes, on these occasions, i wish i had a camera on me. at other times i'm just grateful that the camera has trained my eyes to see so clearly.

(technological determinism? or social construction of technology (scot)? i don't buy the former, so it must be the latter. point to ponder. for those of you who wonder what this is about - it's stuff from 203.)

a photo

a photo -
a flash,
a slice of life,
a frame, ripped out -
no before,
nor after.

it is
in itself
complete.

photography is meditation

the other day at a's place, she showed me a book called intelligence beyond thought which had a chapter dedicated to photography, describing it as a meditative act. that fueled further thought, and then we discussed in class today how different photographers like to focus on different kinds of photo-taking.

it's interesting to think about different kinds of photos, and what they require of the photographer. for instance, when it comes to landscapes, one must have a feel for the 'big picture' - the angles, the lines, the large shapes, where the horizon fits, etc. and then with portraits, one tries to bring the best out in the subject - not necessarily a smile, but the right framing, the tilt, the look in the eyes, the skin tone, etc. the focus is entirely different. and then there are macro shots, such as those of flowers, where one attempts to bring out the color and texture, again the frame is important. for the documenter who needs to record a process, it is the content that's uber-important and everything else takes second place.

are not all these so very different? meditative at the same time though, for one may lose oneself entirely in that 2:3 frame.