A colourful life in black and white

NEW DELHI: If people and their craft were to be categorised as extinct, then this lensman would certainly find mention in the list of the endangered. Sixty one-year-old Om Prakash is one of the few boxwallah cameramen left in the city who refuse to retire from their skill. For the past 42 years, Om Prakash has braved all weathers to reach his place of work — the open gallery outside the famous Gauri Shankar temple in Chandni Chowk.His studio comprises a wooden box camera, that looks as old as its owner, with rust covered nails and latches on a rickety stand; two stools and a small bucket of water. The water is for developing the pictures. "People don't need our services anymore," says Om Prakash, almost matter-of factly. "Nobody wants a black and white picture any more, not when you have the option of availing a coloured picture and at such competitive rates. The coloured studios have taken over." And almost as if to cover his dejection, he adjusts the small curtain that covers the camera and pats on the little stool to dust away invisible dirt. His manner is stiff, but pride shines in his eyes. "We get clients for emergency requirements. That is, if they want passport size pictures and they don't have much time at hand," he says, adding "Our service is prompt. We can give you four black and white photos in five minutes." This he explains is because the technique has a paper negative and a paper positive and that cuts the cost of the print. "The photos are priced at Rs 30 for a set of four. We first take out a paper negative and then develop it into a print," he says. While Om Prakash claims that there is always some work for them, he has seen better days when people would stop by to get themselves photographed against the backdrop of the Red Fort. But then in those days, Om Prakash's open studio was more festive. Huge cutouts of the Taj Mahal, Qutab Minar and other famous tourist destinations adorned the temple wall to give clients a choice of backdrop. There was also a notice board where they would hang the post card sized pictures for display. But not anymore. "I tore away the backdrops. Nobody wants those anymore," he says. Even the notice board is empty, barring two passport sized pictures. Coax him a little to tell you about himself and he says: "I started out in 1960, when I was in my twenties. I learnt the skill from my grandmother, who used to take pictures with a box camera in Jhajjar. He says that there are not many like him anymore because there's no one to make cameras like the one he uses anymore. "All box cameras were made by the same craftsman who came from Lahore. But his craft died with him. His children are not interested in carrying on his legacy," he says.