Genius, they say, is one per cent inspiration and 99 per cent perspiration. The 99 per cent, one can easily supply. For most of us it’s our stock in trade. The one per cent is the bit that’s somewhat more elusive or difficult to come up with. More so, if you’ve been working to build that pension fund and you’ve let your brain get oxidized with strategic planning, writing press releases, speeches for the boss etc, etc. The bright shiny eyes which you saw the world as a child invariably gets dull with age.
I am a person who hated school. My aunt’s three sewing girls in Panadura, Sri Lanka, drew sticks in the morning to decide who would take me to school – nay practically carry me to school –a biting, crying animal to school.
But in later adult life I’ve trudged back to school, still hating the four walled environment but loving the learning. In Dhaka, learning the basics of photography at the Pathshala Media Academy is like taking a polishing cloth and abrasives to clean the oxidized brain. The one percent I may never find but so far the polishing has been fun.
Pathshala is a Sanskrit word meaning “place of learning,” and the Media Academy is modeled on how ancient teaching took place under spreading banyan trees where gurus with long flowing beards imparted wisdom and experiences in an open environment of learning. Today, there are beards but not the gurus with flowing white beards. Being a photography course outdoor classes are mandatory, but for our short course this was the first one. Interestingly, the course coordinator and guru for the day Shah Sazzad was in a workshop I ran on caption writing at the Chobi Mela IV in 2006. Today, tables are turned and am the pupil and he the guru.
Out near a small polluted lake our first assignment was to photograph a subject against a strong backlight but to try to catch the images in the water. Someone found a street waif Azad but he was a natural.
The next assignment was to take portrait shots but the question was how to convince anyone to pose for a photograph with only a smattering of Bangla. But as it turned out the couple of words and the body language did work. Renu at first refused , but then she was soon enjoying being in front of the lens.
Out on the streets a promotion for a new TV station was taking shape. There were horse-drawn carriages and a musical show with a live band.
But as I photographed the young mother and baby enjoying the show with front row standing seats, an official stepped up to ask her to move thinking I didn’t want them in the photo. I was shooing the officer away trying to tell him that I didn’t want them to move, and that I wanted them in the picture, when they turned to look at me and I got an unexpected shot of Taslima and daughter Yasmin.