Bombay Meri Jaan

Bombay you will be told that the only Indian word as a city is understood in the West. Other Indian metropolises like Calcutta, Madras and Delhi are like oversized villages.

It is true that Bombay has many more high-rise buildings than any other Indian city: when you approach it by the sea it looks like a miniature New York.

It has other things to justify its city status: it is congested, it has traffic jams at all hours of the day, it is highly polluted and many parts of it stink.

But mostly what makes Bombay stand apart is its huge swarms of yellows bellying horns and invocating the aroma of the Arabian Tales...

Dhobi Ghat - Rhyme & Rhythms

The thing about Bombay or Mumbai is you go five yards and all of human existence is revealed. It's an incredible cavalcade of life, and I love that.

I love that scent of buzzing human movements and it so much reminds me of the Bees. I can fairly imagine Bombay as The Queen and us acting like bees tending the time as a beehive. We are all moving and at times this movement becomes the metaphor of Stillness.

And maybe if you're staying in Bombay you would have observed that how the city has beautifully carved herself into frames. Frames of life! A life full of renewed life force extinguishing every night and springing up yet again each morning.

Such display of continuous deaths and births are rarely seen in any cities I have ever lived in. Maybe Newyork is such I am being told. But I am sure the waves and textures of human colours are unmatched and unique from everywhere.

And the most remarkable part is the huge mellowed heart of the city.She places the grotesque and the ugly next to the refined and subtle and yet it creates a Rhythm. Her indomitable spirit and desire to exist supercedes every lil' imperfections she carries.

Dhobi Ghat - Blue's Playin

Dhobi Ghat (Mahalaxmi Dhobi Ghat) is a well known open air laundromat in Mumbai, India.The washers, locally known as Dhobis, work in the open to wash the clothes from Mumbai's hotels and hospitals.

I was always fascinated with the stories of Dhobi Ghat and more so seeing the film with the same title.

It was just 6.30 am in the morning and the scent of Dhobi Ghat with chlorine, dim light, half clad men beating the clothes in a rhythm with splashes of water wrenching the blue's out, was enough to produce a music that could only match with Billy Joel in his saxophone.

I was standing there quietly and watching the clock taking me back to somewhere in between the 60's to 70's.There was this humming sound of the drier, in distant, giving it a feeling of Time Machine. I could feel some curious eyes trying to catch my glance but they were too busy to clean all the mirths of the city than watching me through my lens.

I could see tons of shirts and trousers shedding their blackness and getting whiter. I was thinking how men have learnt to clean the dirts and whiten their lives at the expense of other fellow men.

I was wondering where do all these dirts that are getting cleaned travels to? Does these travels to the inside, within the darkest corners of the city ? How will the city clean itself?

I think too much! Let me watch the Blue's for now...

A Photographer's Mind - Stillness of a Time

"You’ve mentioned a couple of times that Italo Calvino is one of your most beloved writers. In The Adventure of a Photographer, the main character says that ‘in order to really live, you must photograph as much as you can… you must either live in the most photographable way possible, or else consider photographable every moment of your life. The first course leads to stupidity, the second to madness’. Do you think photography is inherently futile?"

Dayanita Singh - That’s a beautiful quote, but I think it only makes sense if you think of photography as an end in itself. But if you’re not interested in photography as pure documentation, it frees you to do so much more. My work, Time Measures, is titled after the name of one of Sebald’s poems.

I photographed these bundles of documents wrapped in fabric that I found in an archive in India. The viewer never finds out what the documents are or what they look like, and I never did unwrap them either.Does this then mean that the photographs are pointless?

Whenever people ask me how to become a good photographer, I tell them to read, jump into the world of literature. I hand them a copy of Austerlitz by Sebald, and tell them to come back to me when they’re done with it. Nobody ever comes back to me because that’s not the kind of photography they want to do.

They’re interested in instant gratification, going around with their big cameras, snapping photographs quickly without thinking. Can we raise the bar higher?

- An excerpt from an interview of famed Photographer Dayanita Singh with Apollo Magazine.