Strolled into the Phoenix Mills compound yesterday with full plans of spending a quality two hours at the sprawling Landmark there...immersing myself in the world of books, music, movies, and coffee. How anticlimactic then, to find the store shut for 'up gradation'. There I was...having valiantly negotiated the infamous Mumbai traffic from Versova to Lower Parel for almost an hour-and-a-half....to reach my El-Dorado, and find it's gates shut. Almost immediately, got enveloped in a cloud of those familiar blues that surface from nowhere at times like these. Bought myself a coffee, that tasted quite horrible...walked aimlessly into a famous electronic superstore where almost everything looked too big for my little apartment. Drifted aimlessly into the Canon store and stumbled upon a magnificient piece of equipment..the little, but formidable, G 12. And suddenly, I was alive. Twenty minutes of tinkering around with the little gadget...and I was convinced that I could not pursue my passion for photography any further without this absolutely essential piece of equipment. Much against my capacity to shell out 30 plus grand on an impulse, I gave in to the extreme craving that I had for the camera...and within minutes, was fiddling around with it on my way back home. Yes...if I was to take up photography seriously...I could not do it without proper equipment...and this, thus, I convinced myself, was not an indulgence, but an investment.
But they say (very rightly) that you can fool the whole world...not yourself. However much I tried to convince myself about this wise decision I had made to buy the camera...I was reminded of a little episode that shouted to me otherwise.
About a year back I had visited the Piramal gallery at the NCPA to take a look at a photo exhibition that was running there. Bizarre, but I totally forget the name of the photographer who was showcasing his work. All I remember of him was, that he was short, dark, lean, and an extremely apologetic man who must have been in his early 50's. The exhibition was based on the photographs he had taken on his visit to the Zanskar valley, and I remember admiring the framing, the thought, the passion behind almost each photo that lined the walls of the sprawling gallery. Most photos were around three feet by four...if I remember correctly...and I remember telling myself that if I have to ever hold an exhibition of my works later in life, I must invest in a professional grade camera...at least in something like a 5D...loaded with pixels and a big sensor. The sharpness, the crispness, the latitude within each frame shouted out the words "Pro-stuff" to me. Thoroughly impressed with his high quality work, I accosted the elderly gentleman who sat by the visitors' book, sipping a cup of chai alone.
"Super work," I said," really crisp...which camera do you use...?"
"Thank you," the man replied, barely audible,"I use a Mark 4...."
'There,' I told myself,' so I was right...this guy has the best of equipment..no wonder his photos look so damn good....'
"But...for this project," he continued, a faint smile of remembrance on his lips," I could not use it...the moment I got out of the taxi in Leh...my camera fell and broke down...."
"So....then...," I asked, genuinely inquisitive.
"I had to take all these snaps with a little power-shot," he replied as I found myself staring at him in disbelief.
Yes, Lance Armstrong is so right.
It definitely is, not about the bike.
Am glad I did buy my G 12, anyway. Maybe the Mark 4 I buy falls down and malfunctions...this will come in handy then...
But they say (very rightly) that you can fool the whole world...not yourself. However much I tried to convince myself about this wise decision I had made to buy the camera...I was reminded of a little episode that shouted to me otherwise.
About a year back I had visited the Piramal gallery at the NCPA to take a look at a photo exhibition that was running there. Bizarre, but I totally forget the name of the photographer who was showcasing his work. All I remember of him was, that he was short, dark, lean, and an extremely apologetic man who must have been in his early 50's. The exhibition was based on the photographs he had taken on his visit to the Zanskar valley, and I remember admiring the framing, the thought, the passion behind almost each photo that lined the walls of the sprawling gallery. Most photos were around three feet by four...if I remember correctly...and I remember telling myself that if I have to ever hold an exhibition of my works later in life, I must invest in a professional grade camera...at least in something like a 5D...loaded with pixels and a big sensor. The sharpness, the crispness, the latitude within each frame shouted out the words "Pro-stuff" to me. Thoroughly impressed with his high quality work, I accosted the elderly gentleman who sat by the visitors' book, sipping a cup of chai alone.
"Super work," I said," really crisp...which camera do you use...?"
"Thank you," the man replied, barely audible,"I use a Mark 4...."
'There,' I told myself,' so I was right...this guy has the best of equipment..no wonder his photos look so damn good....'
"But...for this project," he continued, a faint smile of remembrance on his lips," I could not use it...the moment I got out of the taxi in Leh...my camera fell and broke down...."
"So....then...," I asked, genuinely inquisitive.
"I had to take all these snaps with a little power-shot," he replied as I found myself staring at him in disbelief.
Yes, Lance Armstrong is so right.
It definitely is, not about the bike.
Am glad I did buy my G 12, anyway. Maybe the Mark 4 I buy falls down and malfunctions...this will come in handy then...
