As a little boy in Lahore, I saw buffalos for the first time. They were strange animals, neither cow nor goat. To me they were like elephants without trunks. I was fascinated by them. I loved watching them wade in the water for hours. I would watch the young farmers accompany them, pamper them and clean them. The buffalos were the farmer’s pets, friends that they could whisper to. At times farmer and buffalo would swim together and the farmer’s wet clothes would cling to their bodies. I loved the buffalo and their young farmers. Continue reading The Boy and his Buffalos
Little did I know in the start of that summer it was my last one in Lahore. By the fall of same year I was 6,300 km away on British Council fellowship at Chelsea School of Arts. Then I was teaching photography at NCA. Most afternoons,after college, I would traipse the city to discover new places, sample food, drink copious quantities of sugarcane juice with lemon and ginger, and to photograph people.
Continue reading Summer of ’88
If you have stored your treasures of archived negatives and slides like I have, hung systematically in a filing cabinet, I dare you to lift them out. Even a cursory glance using your naked eyes, will bring you face to face with those captured moments. Be prepared for a time travel ride in a golden carriage; the images have that magic.
Continue reading Filing cabinet pet-named Gold