Earlier this week, I quite ceremoniously handed over to my cousin a relic from what now seems like a very different life. I used to be someone tinkering with cameras and had gained quite a reputation among local photographers as being fairly fearless with them. Cameras I mean. I shot film, experimented with it too. Fixed many cameras which were donated to me since people found no need for them once the whole world went digital. This phenomenon predated the boom of mobile phone photography by a substantial number of years.
I don’t tinker with cameras as much now and I don’t experiment with photography either. My work takes up most of my time and I’m known as an architect rather than a photographer. In fact, most people who know me from after 2014 are completely oblivious to that side of me. It really does feels like another life when I was another person. And I have barely fuzzy memories of it.
I don’t really miss it, so why am I digging it all up again?
Because my cousin who is currently studying Film and Television at NYU wants to be a (self proclaimed) hipster-millennial-pretentious-film photography enthusiast. And I couldn’t be happier! She’s the closest I have to a real sister and I would give her anything she asks me for (Except a pair of earrings we fought over almost ten years ago.) She asked if she could have one of my film cameras. So I went to the store room and looked for my favourite Yashica Rangefinder. I cleaned it till it shone, replaced the old scrawny black strap with a scarf strap I’d made for another one of my cameras. Gave her a quick rangefinder tour and film camera lesson. Explained to her how my DIY battery solution worked and how if she ever faced a problem, should just go to BnH photo video and they’ll take complete care of it (I’ve never been to BnH photo video, but if and when I visit NY, that’ll be one of my first stops.)
When I finally took the camera off my neck and gave it to her to wear, she said that it felt like some sort of a formal handing over. Truth be told, I intended it. I wanted her to know that she’s embarking on something special. Something that has added so much value to my life so many years ago. What I loved most was to see the joy and excitement on her face when she saw how the camera works. The manual controls, the pressure one feels from the levers and gears while operating those controls. The viewfinder parallax, the sound of the film winding and shutter opening and closing... I felt nostalgic. Strangely optimistic and extremely happy. And satisfied. I felt most satisfied.
I didn’t just give her a camera and a photography lesson, I gave her a piece of me. And I can’t wait to hear about all the fun she has and all the fantastic things she’ll do with it.
Fare well my Yashica Electro 35. You’re in good hands.
