Most if my shots of the streets are by accident , I shoot from moving buses or moving cabs .. rickshas too.
I dont own a car or a bike I use public transport ,, I once had a Santro I sold it to pay part of my home loan deficit ,,down payment sort of thing..
I decided I will buy a car only after I have paid back those who helped me get this house .. till than I shall walk or commute accordingly .
So I shoot people who are never aware I am shooting them ..and robbing their souls too.. giving their souls freedom of cyberspace .
This lady I presume brings lunch for the school kids and the rich need the services of the poor , mostly it used to be the unfortunate Marathi bai that did the bartan and katka ,,washing vessels sweeping floors ,, and they too their work seriously , were dedicated and loved the kids of the bosses .but soon they disappeared as their shanties were transformed into ivory towers for the super rich.. the poor Marathi Manoos with the money they got moved away to Panvel or their native hometowns .
The Marathi Manoos has always got the raw deal , these children of the soil , were made to do menial jobs . most of them had lost their hope and future when the mills closed down.. I know this as we stayed close to Mukesh Mills ,,the deafening silence , vacuous eyes , and than alcohol took over some failed lives and yet their kids without support , tried to bring their parents ashore with hard work..
None of the political parties really cared for the Marathi Manoos ,,if they did than you wont find them working as menial mathadi loaders , selling vegetables doing the lowest jobs ,, they were betrayed by every government that came into power in the State ,, Does the Dabbawalas son has to become a dabbawala or can he not with the support of the government become a pilot a doctor or an engineer and they rave about Dabbawalas .. or the other end of Mahalaxmi Dhobi ghat where the Dhobis washermen will always remain Dhobis being shot by all the tourists who come to Mumbai ,, is this what we want to portray that we still wash our linen in public .
I can go on I have lived in Mumbai wens its glory was at its peak known as Bombay than the soul of Bombay was forcibly pulled out and put into a lifeless body of misplaced jingoism.
We had a Marathi bai at our house but my mom insisted we call her Aiee . she was elderly and honestly what we are today is because of this Marathi ladys love for us as her own childrn, her sons name was Tulsi but she loved us tenderly taught us Marathii , told us stories of Chattrapati Shivaji Maharaj and made Marathi delicacies for us ,, how can we forget her ..even after 55 years .. she lived with us at Khatau Bhuvan Wodehouse Road and stayed at the servants section of Military Quarters Colaba .
So as my tribute to Aiee I shoot the Marathi Manoos ,be it the Dabbawalas , the bhajiwalis and the Kolis too.
Yes I shot this accidentally and let words gush out of my inner angst...if I had posted this as a picture you would only see it as a picture but I added my signature to it as a blogger ,, I let he photographer in me take the backseat ,, I remember the words of a photographer at my camera club PSI Mumbai , I was new to photography and he saw my contact sheet it had monkeys at Elephanta caves , seagulls , I had not started shooting beggars , and he said politely but scathingly ,, what are you trying to shoot I replied with my 20 mm lens shoved up the ass of a donkey I am trying to shoot the arches from assshole to eternity , being a vernacular he gave me a dumb smile and moved away I did meet him recently at my Photo Gurus book launch,, and he slithered away from my pictorial presence ,,
Yes I am actually a point and shoot photographer and I use my DSLRS my mobile phone as such.. and this is not a photo but a blog .. a story within a story ..
