A Torn Dictionary, a Second-Hand Camera, and a Thousand Untold Stories!

From the very beginning of my journey, I was captivated by the images of Salgado, James Nachtwey, Reza Deghati, Alex Webb, David Alan Harvey, Cartier-Bresson — masters who told human stories with truth and soul.

Many of them used Leica. But for me, it was never just about the camera. It was about what they saw — the dignity, the depth, the human connection. Leica became a symbol of that kind of storytelling. Quietly, I dreamed of holding one someday.

But my beginning was far from any dream.

I started with a used Yashica FX-3 — my father’s old family camera. I didn’t even know photography could be a profession. No mentor. No internet. No books. Just an English manual — and I barely understood the language.

When I couldn’t afford a translator, I bought a torn, second-hand dictionary and taught myself both English and photography. Word by word. Frame by frame. With only hunger, heart, and hope.

I had one 50mm lens. Later, I borrowed gear from anyone who trusted me.

I gave tuition to buy film. Skipped meals to save for processing.

I shot weddings and fashion — not because I loved it, but to fund the work I truly cared about: telling the stories of people the world often overlooks.

At night, I turned our bathroom into a darkroom.

I developed rolls under red light until sunrise.

I spent years walking through slums, garment factories, brickfields, train stations, refugee camps, and forgotten alleys.

I entered brothels, disaster zones, hidden corners of cities, and remote villages — the kind of places people were too afraid to go.

I sat with people society ignored. I didn’t just photograph them — I listened.

It wasn’t easy. My fingers ached when I couldn’t shoot. My chest felt heavy.

Photography wasn’t what I wanted to do — it was what I needed to do.

And now, after 25 years, I’ve finally bought a Leica.

It’s not just a camera.

It’s a symbol of everything I’ve lived through — every roll, every story, every step.

This isn’t a story about gear.

It’s a story about purpose.

About belief, compassion, and never giving up.

— GMB Akash