The story of the last few years of British Empire, its fall in India and then the beginning of independent India?s tumultuous yet spirited journey has been well chronicled, both on paper as well as photographic film. The leaders, the masses, the daunting predicaments facing the south Asian sub-continent are tucked away safely in many works on sub-continental history. But there was one chronicler whose work stands out when it comes to the visual documentation of that era. Homai Vyarawalla, India?s first woman photojournalist, had painstakingly archived her work for decades. Pictures taken by this sari-clad Parsi lady photographer, among a crowd of lensmen, act as eyewitness accounts of a nation in transition and a nation in the making. She was often addressed as ?mummy? by her younger colleagues.
Candid, The Lens and Life of Homai Vyarawalla, an ongoing exhibition of a collection of her works at New York?s Rubin Museum of Art, is perhaps the first major solo exhibition of her pictures in the West. As India celebrated its 66th independence day earlier this week and with world photography day today, Vyarawalla?s monochromatic snapshots afford us an enriching peep into the history of modern India?it?s a visual encyclopaedia of three cardinal decades of Indian polity and society, from the late 1930s till about 1970. A couple of years ago, Vyarawalla handed over her archival prints and negatives to the Alkazi Foundation in Delhi on permanent loan, to ensure their proper safekeeping. The exhibition in New York has been organised in collaboration with the same foundation.
Vyarawalla was born in Navsari, Gujarat in 1913 in a middle class Parsi family and it was her boyfriend (later husband), Maneckshaw Vyarawalla, who introduced her to photography. Her education at the Sir JJ School of the Arts in Mumbai, as well as the modernist photographs of that era, were the first major influences on her work. Gandhi, Nehru, Patel, the Mountbattens, Jinnah, Shastri, Indira Gandhi, and many more stood at the receiving end of her flash, since she moved to Delhi to join the British Information Services in 1942. Her work can be considered instructive when it comes to candid photography. Nehru does emerge as her favourite subject with his affable, unselfconscious and camera-friendly demeanour. Her collection is dotted with his pictures in various moods, shades, and poses, or the lack of them. However, it was Gandhi whom she revered and idolised. Gandhi wasn?t particularly fond of facing the camera, but she did manage to photograph him extensively. Unfortunately, she lost those prints and negatives while shifting homes.
And while some of her most famous photos of Gandhi were those taken during his funeral procession, she always rued that she missed the ?most important? picture. She was headed to Birla House on that fateful morning when Gandhi was gunned down, just to be called back by her husband. ?She considered it the most important picture she ever missed. Her sense of loss reflected the general mood of shock and grief that had gripped India, but at a personal level, it was also about a photojournalist missing what could have been the greatest shot of her life,? says Sabeena Gadihoke, associate professor at Jamia Millia Islamia and Vyarawalla?s biographer and friend. Gadihoke has authored Camera Chronicles of Homai Vyarawalla and later curated an exhibition of Vyarawalla?s pictures for the National Gallery of Modern Art.
Vyarawalla also photographed international personalities who visited India during those years, including the likes of Martin Luther King Jr, Ho Chi Minh, Marshall Tito, Queen Elizabeth I and Jackie Kennedy. A look at the vast body of her work shows how she made herself a part of this country?s history through her pictures, and at another level, it seems as if the nation wanted to reflect on its own history through her lens. It?s ironic then that Vyarawalla, who passed away earlier this year aged 98, did not take pictures in the last 42 years of her life. ?By the end of the ?60s, she (Vyarawalla) felt that India had changed. In fact, it was a feeling that was shared by a whole generation. By that time, cracks were beginning to set into the Indian state and she felt disillusioned with the changes she saw around her. To add to that, she didn?t find herself comfortable with the then recent crop of photographers and their ways. Given increased security measures, politicians and leaders seemed distant as the kind of proximity she was used to with her subjects was no longer possible. There was also a sort of an impersonal air about them now,? says Gadihoke.
Till 1997, which marked the golden jubilee of India?s independence, Vyarawalla works were covered with the dust of anonymity. She started getting major recognition again, as 50 years of independence necessitated a lookout for archival pictures by newspapers and magazines and that?s when people came to realise this treasure. But did this anonymity ever upset Vyarawalla? ?Not really because she herself chose to fade away. She wasn?t a victim, she just wanted a quieter life and it?s a choice she made. Also, it might have to do something with the fact that she never realised that these photographs would become so important in the future. For Homai, she was just doing her job at the time. However, she valued her work enough to preserve it for posterity,? says Gadihoke.
The last few chapters of British India and the first few of independent India sit pretty with a definite seal of Vyarawalla?s photography. And 65 years later, as India reflects on independence and its journey thereafter, Homai Vyarawalla could well be called the lady who captured freedom in all its earnestness.
