i’m back! with long pending pictures, which my dear dost shashank developed and sent. these are from the last ilford 3200 i used. some are in london, some from when i came back and shot around the city.
let’s go, then!
was shooting around central with lubaina, a friend of leena’s. she was doing a project on london buildings and was shooting film. i accompanied as my film had been lying in the camera for quite some time, and i hadn’t actually shot anywhere beyond kingston for a long time.
the best thing about london is that almost all buildings have huge glass facades that reflect and distort everything around them.
that’s me trying street, a la shank!
one of the most hideous buildings i’ve seen. stavros, another of leena’s friends, calls it an elaborate architectural mistake. i do not remember the name of the monstrosity though.
back to bombay.
i’d been to dadar to shoot the ‘kabutar-khana’ which translated to english means ‘house of pigeons.’ it is a small fountain located right in the middle of an extremely busy and crowded traffic circle, near dadar station. always populated by hundreds of pigeons of all shapes, sizes and colour, kabutar-khana is also registered in public memory as the place where anupam kher’s character gets shot by nana patekar’s henchmen in the brilliant film ‘parinda,’ directed by vidhu vinod chopra.
one can see people feeding the birds all through the day, the evenings drawing parents with tots attached to their hips, clutching bird-feed in their little hands, parents letting their kids wander among the pigeons. it’s a pretty sight when a hundred wings flap together, rising in a ball of dust and feathers, to finally settle on the wires and temple-tops around the fountain. my friend bhushan would stay about a hundred meters away from kabutar-khana. he despises the birds, especially the sound of their feathers. before he got married, there were only two things bhushan was scared of – cockroaches and pigeons. now, there are three.
and for the final image –
the ultimate reality of bombay. life and death cavorting around in the filth, strange bedfellows as the cliche goes, limbs entangled in an intimate embrace.