Think about the tree that never stops giving, I found some more pictures that can qualify to form yet another small photo series from my trip to the Himalayas two years ago. This time they are pictures of the Old men in Himachal Pradesh. The tough mean looking men who are just as welcome to share a conversation with you as they are to offer you a regular or hash beedi.
Just as you probably are, I too wondered why or how I managed to get this lot of pictures of old men in the middle of filming a cross country mountain biking race. This is my theory.
When I was younger, I always wanted to go to Delhi as part of the Republic Day contingent of the NCC, I failed and then I outgrew my welcome in the NCC. On my way to the mountains I had to stop by at Delhi. My first visit there and say what you will, I really liked the place, almost loved. Except for the shitty spiked beer you get there. (I’m from Mallya land) What has this got to do with Old men in Himachal? Well, my own old man loves Delhi. He almost does not shut up about going there. Why? I have no clue! But now, I could try to understand it.
This trip and the wonderful jib shots in my film Meeting Mountains would have been impossible if my dad had not helped and encouraged me build the compact jib in the very last minute. Being the whole industrial nut that he is, he helped me find the right materials, bolts, washers, put the whole thing together up until the point where my ride was waiting outside the house to take me to the train station. And that is probably why, even though I have only used that jib once or twice since, I never felt like selling it off.
In conclusion, I think I photographed old men because, sub consciously they reminded a stupid son of his incredible father.