Our old home
Dadu, sleeping. It will be so different to go mirpur when she will be not there
This is the pond that me and munmun went with abbu in the all the eid morning in our childhood to take bath and learn swimming
Mehndi, nabila’s hand
Boro Chachu, coming back from the mosque.
Mosque, just in front our house. You have to listen the sound of this cracked mike at 5 in the morning!
Nabila in the dinning table
The beautiful sun in our corridor
Our afternoon walk through the fileds
Nabila & Boro chachu in the boat
Rice field and the wind
Reetu and Munmun.
Normally I don’t take photographs at my home or in my village or among friends. I guess I am tired of photography, so when i go for holiday sometime travel without my camera. But strangely now i feel like document these banal personal moments, like a visual diary. Basically I was amazed to look at old photographs in family albums, they were so honest.
I have taken all these photographs through I-phone, inspired by Imtiaz Ilahi. Though now i hate all this hipsatamic effects, want to go back to films.