What follows are the results of this little venture and a bit more. I made up my mind to photograph people and only people and on an overcast day, set out with the Yashica in hand.

The plan was to approach people at random and ask if I may photograph them. This didn’t work for a while and in retrospection I realise now that most people would say no when faced with this retro beast.

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Terrifying retro-ness |Pinterest|

So I changed tactics and began to shoot randomly and unsuspectingly.

Some people smiled, others revolted, a few questioned my authority, many were suspicious, surprise was common, “character shots” were not, intrigue was seldom voiced, disregard was rare.

Many a times it felt as though I was taking a slice of people and locking it away forever. Their expressions seemed to convey fear and annoyance at having been violated in such a manner. I introspected and questioned my right to photograph people without their permission. At the end of the day, I felt not a creative high but a buzzing sensation. A feeling of having shared the thoughts, memories and burdens of people. It was a passing thought, but a strong one at that. Though I connected with a few of them, the connections felt feeble – strong only for a few moments before breaking away.

These photographs would remind me of the time, place and situation under which they were taken. They would mean more to me than to you, dear reader.