asia – GMB AKASH

25 Years, Many Journeys—Sri Lanka Still Feels Like the First Time!

As a photographer, my journey has taken me across many countries over the past 25 years, capturing untold stories, fleeting moments, and the soul of diverse cultures. Yet, some places leave a lasting imprint on my heart—places I return to time and time again, always discovering something new, something extraordinary.

Sri Lanka is one of those places. Every visit feels like the first—its lush greenery, vibrant streets, and the warmth of its people never cease to inspire me. The faces I encounter, the stories they carry, and the unfiltered emotions they share make this country truly special. There’s an energy in Sri Lanka that is both electrifying and deeply soulful. The kindness in a stranger’s eyes, the rhythm of daily life, the explosion of colors in a bustling market—these are the moments that keep drawing me back.

With every frame I capture, I strive to honor the beauty, resilience, and humanity that make this land unforgettable. I can’t wait to return, to reconnect, and to tell more stories through my lens.

#SriLanka #TravelPhotography #PeoplePhotography #DocumentaryPhotography #StreetPhotography #CulturalPhotography #PortraitPhotography #VisualStorytelling #TravelPhotographer #EverydaySriLanka #HumanConnection #LifeThroughMyLens #Wanderlust #SoulfulTravel #PhotographyLover

Nepal: A Land of Magic and Mystery!

Nepal has always been close to my heart. I’ve visited over 30 times, yet each trip excites me like the first.

There’s something almost mystical about it—the crisp mountain air, golden sunrises over the Himalayas, and ancient temples whispering stories of the past. The streets hum with life, prayer flags dance in the wind, and incense drifts through narrow alleys, blending with monastery chants.

But what truly makes Nepal extraordinary is its people—their warmth, resilience, and ever-smiling faces. No matter their hardships, they welcome you like family, with open hearts.

For a photographer, Nepal is pure magic. Every visit reveals something new—a hidden alley bathed in golden light, a moment of devotion, or a stranger’s eyes telling a silent story. I always leave with fresh inspiration and a deeper love for this incredible land.

Nepal isn’t just a place I visit—it’s my second home. And I long to return, again and again.

_ GMB Akash

#Nepal #VisitNepal #TravelPhotography #Wanderlust #TravelGram #AdventureAwaits #ExploreTheWorld #Himalayas #Kathmandu #Pokhara #NepaliCulture #NepalDiaries #ExperienceNepal #VisitNepal2025 #NepaliPeople #CulturalHeritage #FacesOfNepal #HumanConnection #TravelDeeper #StreetPhotography #MountainMagic #NatureLovers

Rising from Adversity!

Despite having roll number four, I couldn’t achieve good results because my family was going through severe financial hardships. Due to these struggles, I couldn’t focus on my studies properly. For me, my family is above everything else, and while prioritizing their well-being, I had to compromise with my education.

My sister is blind. Just before my SSC exams, my rickshaw driver father, managed to arrange her marriage after enduring many hardships. But while I was still sitting for my exams, my sister’s husband disappeared—leaving her behind. Not only that, he took all our money, the gold jewelry, everything. Later, we realized he had married her only for his financial gain.

Around that same time, my father had a heart attack. Suddenly, the weight of my entire family’s well-being fell on my shoulders. I had to split my day—half driving a rented rickshaw, half studying for my exams. After paying 500 taka to rent the rickshaw, What little remained had to cover both our household expenses and my education. Every single day felt like a battle I was losing.

It was in this ocean of despair that Akash Bhai appeared in my life, like a guardian angel from heaven. Listening to my problems he promised to give me a Auto Rikhahaw ‘Tuktuk’. And within a week he bought me a tuktuk with (1200$) almost 1 lakh and 30 thousands money.
Alhamdulillah, now I can earn almost 1000 taka par day. And can support my family and my studies.

I promised Akash Bhai that in my next exam, I would definitely achieve a good result. And I would work even harder to fulfill my dreams, and Inshallah, I would reach that place of my dreams—taking my family by my side.
_Jahidur

Angels on Street

Imagine you are six years old. Left alone on the street. Your ragged clothes are all you have with you. You are bare foot and empty hand. You have no idea what to eat and where to sleep. You roam around at places for couple of hours. Whenever you are trying to go close to people they are yelling at you. And then you are hungry and have no idea how to get some food or a glass of water. You remain hungry and thirsty all day long and there is no place to rest or seat. And finally night arrives when you meet people like you, who are waiting to sleep nearby closed shops and counters. You are trying to sleep but you shiver in fever. There is no one to hold you other than the newly met street dog who is the only family you have now. Welcome to street!

Sharing Ten real life stories of ‘Angels on Street’, featured first on my Facebook page. GMB Akash

I did not get anything to eat yesterday. I slept hungry. But now I am feeling lucky to get this rotten bread. My shoes, cloth and food everything comes from this dump yard. Aren’t you asking me about the odor? I was born in this place, someone left me here after my birth, smell of this place make me feel like a home. This is my home and these dogs, birds are my family.

– Abu (10)

One day my father did not return home from work. We searched him everywhere. We went to hospital, spent days by knocking at police station but we found out nothing. I had two younger brothers who had no idea what was happening. After a year of his disappearance everyone started telling that he flew with another woman. My mother was changing and treating us worse in every passing day. Once she locked me in the toilet and punished me for hours knowing well how much I was afraid of darkness. Then one morning, I wake up and saw she is gone. She as well escaped with someone. I was eleven years old and did not have enough time to find out anything as my brothers were crying all the time. We passed two days without food or any help. After begging to everyone, villagers sat in a meeting with my uncles, aunts and grandparents. My grandparents accepted my two brothers and decided to send me to work as a housemaid in Dhaka. A girl is a burden that is what my relatives told to everyone. On my way to Dhaka, I discovered the woman who was accompanying me was telling my price to someone on the phone. I had no idea who was selling me to whom but I knew I need to escape. I took an enormous brick and hit on her head, she was bleeding heavily but I did not look back. This world is a bad place but I have already learned to survive – Nargis (13)

I have nobody. I live alone. Sometimes I go to play with children of this neighborhood. They do not take me to participate in their game. They laugh at me because I have no idea where my parents live. They mocked me by making my parents name. I do not mind. Humiliation is a part of my life. That’s why now-a-days, all the time I play alone. You will not feel bad anymore when you will learn how to enjoy alone. That’s how I stopped looking for friends. I am happy and can move freely now. By the way, I call myself bird, isn’t this a good name?
– Pakhi (10)

My mother was a prostitute. I was born in a brothel. I never saw her happy but she smiled every single time I looked at her. Everyone at our place was unhappy because my mother gave birth to a boy. My mother was different. She never allowed me to go near her. I wanted to sleep in her lap; I wanted to get her kisses. But she never let me to touch her. Sometimes I wanted to hate her badly. Some days when I woke up, I saw her torturing herself by scratching her hands, feet with sharp blades. I wiped her blood, I wiped her face, but she never cried. She always smiled to me. One day I asked her where my father lived, my prostitute mother pointed at her heart. I tried to hate her with all my heart. Every day, everyone called me a bastard. It was same in the slum where me and my mother arrived after fled from brothel to start a new life. No one gave work to my mother, no one talked to us. Often times people threw stones in the roof of our plastic hut. The day my mother died, she was very clam. For the first time she kissed me on my cheeks. Told me that, she is thankful to me for choosing her as a mother, for giving her love that she never received in her life. My mother left me alone. She cannot come to me. But I can go to her.

– Shadhin (13)

I was very afraid of dogs. Now it’s been one month I cannot sleep, if dogs do not sleep around me. Often times, I cry during sleep. When my friend Jewel shakes my shoulder, I usually stop crying. In the first day, when I arrived in Sadarghat, street boys had beaten up me a lot. They said it is needed to make street boys strong. But I am not at all strong. I cry in simple things. But people around me do not have time to notice my crying and that I feel relieved for that. I cried a lot, when my mother got married after death of my father. When I was following the groom’s group, she called me and said, if I try to follow her, she will throw me in the river. My grandparents also refused me to take inside their home. Now-a-days I do not feel that much bad, my mother was very poor, so how she could take care of me! When we street boys try to sleep at night, we talked about our dreams. One day I will have a house, where I will have a bed. That time if I want, I can eat hot rice by cooking in the kitchen, I do not have to save money for taking shower, and there will be a bathroom in my house. My friend Jewel, request me to give him a place inside my house. I said, if he stop telling lie, I will think about it – Israfil (8)

My step mother was like a rose. After my father got married with my mother, I used to be with her all the time. She could tell all kind of funny jokes; she made various kinds of pickles for me. When everyone used to say, my mother is a witch, I burst into tears and fought with them. I used to love my mother a lot. Even I loved my brother who came with my new mother. I used to play with him and shared all my things. One day we got to know a little brother will come soon into our life. I was so happy, so was my family. Mother one day told me, she wanted to go to ride the boat in river, and wanted me to be with her. She told me not to share this with my father, as he never would let me to go to river, because I am afraid of water. Without telling anything to anyone, I went with my mother and her cousin for a boat ride. That was a beautiful afternoon. When the boat went in the middle of river, my mother asked me to pick a floating wild flower for her. While I bend my head to pick the flower, I was pushed into the river. Before I understood anything I was drowning in the middle of the river. While screaming for help I saw their boat went very far from me. I do not know how much distance I passed while a fisherman boat saved me. With the fisherman, I got into a launch. I did not try to find out my lost home. That one push took my childhood and I become mature. I did many kind of works to survive. Now I help the van owner while he carries sacks. Many years had passed but still I am having the nightmare that I am drowning in the river and everyone is laughing.

– Manik (12)

I have to work with a lot of attention. This is not easy to find usable stuff from garbage. Sometimes after whole day I found one thing to sell in the recycle shop. And in a good day I can find biscuits. Not ordinary biscuits, the one which has cream. That’s my favorite. Some days I find biscuits which tastes very sour but my dog like to have that, so I give him without eating those. And in a very bad day, I cut my feet. I think people do not know that children work in the garbage on bare foot. They throw away broken glasses which often scratch our feet. Sometimes it bleeds heavily. It hurts a lot. I and my dog have had many scars in our legs. That’s why now a days I am keeping clothes with me. If it bleeds I tie and continue to work.

– Jesmine (7)

My name is Rasel and I do not know who gave me this name. I am an orphan. I am living in street for four years. When I arrived in Dhaka I was injured and hungry, but no one cared about street people. I cried so many days because I wanted someone to care for me or talk to me with a smile. But people have no time for love. So, I started loving everyone. I share my food and take care of my street friends. Meet with my new friend, Kutum, it means guest, and she is my guest. I cured her injury with my love and now taking care of her. I will look after her, as long as she will not leave me. But I will never leave Kutum. I know how it feels to be alone and being unloved.

My mother flew with me when my father wanted to make me disable, after my birth, so that he could use me, for begging. I do not know what my mother actually does; she sleeps whole day and works at night when I sleep. We live in street, our neighbors and police calls me ‘whore’s daughter’, mom told me not to reply them, as bad people always talk bad. I am a flower seller, I sell flowers, I do not beg. But people have no time to look at flowers. I pop into the window of big cars and see beautiful children, with their parents. Sometimes I wonder, didn’t their dad want to sell their organ or want to make them disable for begging! One day a rich mom buy all my flowers for her girl but when the girl wanted to give me money, she said not to touch me, I might have disease. The baby girl threw the money in the air and I caught that. The day made me the best flower seller among all – Lutfa

My problem is I am a fool and I cannot tell a lie. A few days ago a beggar hired me to act as her blind child. We supposed to roam around the city’s signal and beg for food. At the end of the day she promised me to give fifty taka and food. I rehearsal well and she was convinced that I acted marvelous. And then we started our mission. For an hour it was going good, but then we went near to a car window and a lady with her child was giving me some money. I saw the boy was playing with a car. The lady seemed generous so instead of taking the money I told her, ‘Madam, I am a blind child, I have no toys, can you please give your son’s red car?’ After a few minutes the car driver was chasing behind me and I was running with my life by leaving my fake beggar mother behind.

– Polash (10)

You can be part of making some of them smile, you can also tell them they are loved, you can give them some hope for a day or life time. Last year I organized three events for more than 2000 unprivileged children of streets, dump yard, brick field and child labourer. This year I want to reach more and want you as well to be part of this happiness. You can send clothes, slippers, toys, dry food for these children. Email me at akashphoto@gmail.com to contribute for a smile. I will send you detail how you can become someone’s light.

To check my last year’s event with unprivileged children:

Many Miles Many Smiles

Today is Our Holiday

Eid Love

‘Heroes of Life’ – Part I

‘Heroes of Life’ – are those incredible humans who always find their way to light and love. They had known defeats, sufferings, struggles yet they possess a beautiful story in their hearts, which is worthy to share with the world.

Kawser Hossain, Shamsuddin Miah and Rani’s stories touched everyone’s heart. They were featured first in GMB Akash facebook page and become an inspiration for thousands of people all over the world. This video is about how we have helped three of them so they can give a good fight with their lives and remains as unbroken as they were. Thanks everyone for giving them love, respect and support.

You tube Video: ‘Heroes of Life’ Video interview

https://www.facebook.com/gmbakash/

Yesterday, I was able to buy a new dress for my daughter after two years. While I handed sixty pieces of five taka note to the seller, he yelled at me by asking if I am a beggar. My daughter held my hand and cried to leave the shop by saying that she did not want to buy any dress. I wept off her tears with one hand. Yes, I am a beggar. Ten years ago I had never thought in my nightmares that I have to live by begging from people. The night coach fell from the bridge and unbelievably I was alive. I was alive by becoming a disable. My youngest son often ask me where had I left my other hand. And my daughter Sumaiya feed me every day by saying she knows how difficult it is to do all work with one hand.

After two years my daughter is wearing a new dress, that’s why today I brought her with me to play for some time. May be I will not be able to earn anything today, but I wanted to roam around with my little girl. I secretly borrowed this mobile phone from my neighbor without informing my wife. My daughter has no picture and I want to make this day memorable for her. When one day I will have a phone I will take a lot of pictures of my children. I want to keep good memories. It’s very difficult to send my children to school, but I am educating them all. Sometimes they cannot attend exam because giving exam fees is not always possible by me. On those days they feel very sad then I tell them, sometimes we can miss exams because the biggest exam is life which we are giving every day.

Now I will go for begging. I will place my daughter in a signal where she will wait for me. I will look at her from distant while begging. I feel shame while she looks at me when I lend my one hand to others. But she never leaves me alone. Because there are big cars, she thinks accident can happen again, these cars could run on me and I would die. Whenever I managed to get some money I return to home by holding my daughter’s hand. We do bazaar on our way and my daughter always carry that bag. During rain we love to get wet and talk about our dreams. In someday I do not get any money, on those days we return to home silently. On those days I feel like to die but at night when my children fall in sleep by holding me I feel being alive is not a bad thing. Only bad is when my daughter waits for me in the signal by keeping her head down. When I cannot look at her eye while begging. But today is different. Because today my daughter is very happy. Today this father is not a beggar. Today this father is a king and here is his princess.

– MD. Kawsar Hossain

This father and daughter received love from all around the world. It takes almost one month for me to find out him. After several meetings with the family, Kawser wanted to have a source of income. He wanted to do vegetable business in rickshaw van. He also wanted to educate his daughter and he never want to beg in his life.

I promised Kawser to gift a van rickshaw and settle his vegetable business. He has received vegetable business and a rickshaw van. His children received scholarship for one year. I long a few generous friends contributed for this cause. ‘This Heroes of life’ – are extraordinary human beings. Sumaiya and his father Kawser is already making differences in their life.

‘We can help someone with the minimum we have. Someone’s nothing can be someone’s everything’

Remember the elderly couple?’ For everyone they are ‘The Baghban couple’!

https://www.facebook.com/gmbakash/

Last year we fled together. We never thought we could do that. I knew that our children may stop communicating with us. But I and my wife are living forty seven years together. Every day after sunrise she wakes up me first and together we do our prayers. Forty seven years we never had spent a day without each other. Seeing my wife’s face was the first thing happen to me every day. We struggled together with our six children. In the past, often times I was able to manage one time food for my family, I and my wife starved whole day after feeding our children. She never complained, never told me that I was failed as a husband. After so much suffering we never left each other’s side, never fought one single day, and never lost faith on each other. When my elder son took me and the youngest daughter took their mother, we did not realize that they decided to take us separately. Our children earn little and they have their expenses. After fulfilling their children’s need our need was burden to them. We knew everything but it was impossible for us to accept that we cannot be together anymore. I shamelessly asked my elder son and he was very surprised. He informed me that none of them are capable of taking care both of us.

I tried to adjust. But every morning when I wake up I wanted to see her smile. I spent my whole day by waiting for my son’s arrival so I could talk to her with the phone he had. But he arrived late night when on the other side my daughter usually went to sleep. The day when I was able to hear her voice none of us could speak a word. I heard how hard she tried to keep clam her tearful voice and I murmured stupid things. I never thought life can become so meaningless without each other. Every day I felt to run to my daughter’s house which was far away from mine. Then one day by gaining some courage I told her that I wanted to run together. By surprising me, she asked me to go right away. I took my walking stick and never looked back. We run away together with empty hand.

Now I sell children’s toy. I hardly can manage 100 taka every day and after I return to home I found food on our bed. Our children arrived once to see us last year; they told us how we failed them, how humiliated they felt for our behavior. We did not say anything. We do not want to hurt them. They decided to never come again. Sometimes we feel bad for our children, we miss them. But we know we are running out of time. I am fifteen years older than my wife. Any day I may die in the road while selling children’s toy. So I keep saving some money in a mud bank, I do not want my wife to beg to people to finish my last work. But every day my wife cries a lot during her prayer, whenever I ask her why she is crying so much, she would always say, ‘I want to die with you’.

– Samsuddin Miah (77) with her wife Rekha Begum (62)

For Shamsuddin Chacha, it’s very hard to walk miles after miles by carrying toys in his back. After all his hard work the little money he earns goes for his cancer patient wife’s medicine. After daily struggle of managing food and medicine, every day they find their way in their wrecked one bed room house. I along my facebook page GMB Akash friends comes forward to help him. ‘After receiving the rickshaw van and shoe business we are very happy. We pray to God so we can move forward with this work. I cannot thank enough everyone who has helped us. We are feeling like today is an Eid day’ – Shamsuddin Miah

Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal …

https://www.facebook.com/gmbakash/

He was about to throw my one month old boy. I was holding his leg and he was kicking me constantly. There were scars in every parts of my body. With blade, knife and needle. Sometimes by holding my legs he pulled me out in such a speed that it was very difficult to keep my clothes on my body. My daughter had run behind me by taking one of her scarf to cover the naked parts of my body. She used to scream, ‘Please, help my mother.’ But no one came to help us. He had beaten me on the road. Someday my girl counted the scars of my body and often told me that she lost those unlimited counts. My husband was a heroin addict. After selling everything I had, we were the only things for him to sell. I used to keep poison with me all the time. My daughter knew that it was poison. Whenever we were hurt, by holding and crying to me she asked, ‘When will we have the poison, maa?’ I asked her, ‘Why?’ By weeping her eyes off she replied, ‘It’s very painful to live.’ Then that night arrived when I decided to end all our pains. We were counting hours for our death. My one month old son was smiling in his dream. I could not put poison on his mouth. I held both of them with my chest and ran away, ran away before anyone could sell us or kill us. At that midnight no one asked us what had happened, where were we going? Whenever I was slowing my daughter was crying and telling me, ‘Run Maa, run.’ When the sun was rising, we heard the sound of azaan and crows were flying all over above our heads. I asked myself, ‘Where should I go?’ I wanted to give a chance to me and my children, by breathing in free air, by having some courage to dream. Without knowing where to go, whom to knock. I do not know what we will eat tomorrow. My daughter is struggling every single day to feed us. I am incapable of walking straight. Every night I heard my daughter crying secretly, whenever I touch her head to calm her down she often whisper, ‘Everything will be okay, very soon.’ I nod and say ‘Yes’ to her. Knowing very well nothing will change, light will never enter in our lives, we will never be able to smile. Not everyone knows how it feels to be happy in life.

– Rani (33)

Rani wanted to change her life. To help her we settled her with a rickshaw van and spice business.

Everyone can help someone. Everyday can be a different day. Thanks for becoming a part of this change making journey by giving your warm words, by offering your gift and making everyone believe that humanity exist

– GMB Akash

‘Realm of Illusion’

‘My camera is a vessel to reach to my dream. I started documenting suffering and find beauty in ugliness, happiness in despair, dreams in suffocation. I am just a poor storyteller who has nothing but a suitcase full of tales’ – GMB AKASH

Love is my religion; unity is my faith/ www.akash-images.com

If you taste the love, you are already rich/ www.akash-images.com

I am on a journey to seek the remedy of Life / www.akash-images.com

When I take off the mask from my soul, I find the beauty of living/ www.akash-images.com

May everyone who loves God honor the path of everyone else. May all the sacred scriptures be universally cherished as the treasures of all mankind / www.akash-images.com

I continue to search for myself / www.akash-images.com

The beauty of life is hidden in the HOPE and in the possibilities of life itself/ www.akash-images.com

Every person has a story and an end/ www.akash-images.com

To taste life prepare to taste thousands of deaths / www.akash-images.com

Living a simple life is hardest because the whole world continues to show you greed in the name of happiness

/ www.akash-images.com

If you seek to know the truth of universe, you’ll have the power of the whole universe with you

/ www.akash-images.com

For living life once I cut off the wings of my soul, now for tasting life I cut out my greed. That’s how my journey starts/ www.akash-images.com

You live in the world and my world lives in me/ www.akash-images.com

My race begins of deriving the internal peace / www.akash-images.com

You have done everything to feed your body, what have you done to feed your soul

/ www.akash-images.com

You can get life if you can get rid of fear/ www.akash-images.com

I can only take a look at my own soul and follow its map / www.akash-images.com

“Sometimes I feel – I am wearing perfume in the middle of the desert” – GMB Akash

‘Life on Fire’

Now-a-days Beauty Begum (45) cannot remember anything. Even a few days ago she could remember everything, from her bazaar list to TV serial’s schedule. At present she is forgetting everything. In front of her eyes in the hospital bed lays the horrifically burnt body of her husband, Jamed (42). Somehow this is no longer affecting her. Now she is constantly thinking about the doctor’s prescription of eggs, lemons and malta’s increasing prices. Her savings of many years from their daily bazaar profits is now in the pennies. Now she worries about her husband’s job that he did for 15 years as a temporary employee. She felt helpless about the increasing price of eggs and lemons; she doesn’t know how to give courage to her terrified son who is supposed to attend the Secondary Board examination. She is overly concerned how to pay 2500 taka of her house rent. Moreover, the burnt body of her husband is repeatedly moaning in pain at night, not letting her sleep for a second. All in all, Beauty Begum is forgetting everything.

It is not only the middle class housewife, Beauty Begum who has been thunderstruck with this perverse reality. Labourer Jamir Ally’s wife Parvin, who came from a village, is as well speechless. Her eyes moisten while she feeds labourer Jamir Ally. Sometimes she gets scared to see how painfully the petrol bomb has burnt her innocent husband who has worked tirelessly just to feed their children. The labourer man who used to return home at night with their bazaar used to crack jokes all the time. Poverty never hit them as much as this disaster and happiness was always there in their wrecked house. Still now he wants to talk, wants to explain how horrible it was to be burnt with fire. Having deep pain in his eyes tired Parvin whispered, ‘Poor people have to go through a lot of difficult tests in order to survive in this cruel world.’

Dhaka Medical’s Burn Unit is only a temporary address for those who now do not know about the time, date or day. The constant unbearable pain, the smells of burnt infected flesh, the harsh dread running through the body and the uncertainty for the future: this is the present for innocent people who have been burnt by petrol bombs during the strike. One such victim, 20 year-old Nazmul expressed his terror to his mother by saying, ‘People burnt by petrol will not live long, will they, Maa?’ The mother who has not eaten or drunk anything for three days while Nazmul was in critical condition could not answer him properly just cried and said, ‘Your maa will die if something happens to you bazan (son).’ Wounded Nazmul came out from the burning bus by using his hands. On the 26^th January the petrol bomb in the Jatrabari bus has devastated Nazmul’s future and life. Still Nazmul is dreaming of recovering; still he is trying to console his mother, and hoping to live a longer life.

Like Nazmul, a lot of injured people are trying to believe in destiny. Mr. Billal (26) has given the name to his first child, ‘Sinha’. After getting married two years ago Billal thought life will take a right turn. A Petrol bomb has shattered his family, the future of their three month’s old Sinha and Billal’s entire reality.

Beside Billal’s bed is pickup driver Najmul Islam who is shouting in pain, ‘I will die, please do something, please do something.’ Unmarried Najmul took a loan of 11 kah and bought a pickup van two months ago. During the strike a petrol bomb hit his new van and him. His past, present and future all is now in despair.

Gravely injured seventy year-old Abu Taher is constantly calling Allah, in pain he keeps continuing to say. ‘La Ilaha Illahallah’. In insupportable pain such an old man has been suffering days and nights. It seems pain has no end.

The white bed sheet of hospital has wrapped Alsam (19) very well. His mother is continuously fanning him, touching his head and hair, calling him and saying, ‘Have a look Aslam, see who has come to see you. Open your eyes bazan (son)’. Aslam’s mother continues to call him but he will never answer her again. Alsam went to another place; a place from where no one can answer.

(Dhaka Medical College Hospital (DMCH), Burn Unit doctors said that most of the petrol bomb victims were burnt from 20 percent to 40 percent of their bodies. Out of a total of 111 patients who are having medical treatment in DMCH burn unit, 61 are in critical condition. A continuous blockade interspersed with hartals (general strikes) has been going on since the 6^th January, 2015. It was called by the 20-Party Alliance demanding the resignation of the Awami League government which came into power through the one-sided election of the 5^th January. The protests have become increasingly violent and nearly 1,000 vehicles have been torched or vandalized. The security forces have in turn arrested more than 10,000 opposition supporters while more than a dozen protesters have been shot dead, prompting allegations of a shoot-to-kill strategy.There has been an outbreak of violence and innocent ordinary people are being killed. Petrol bomb attacks on vehicles in Bangladesh are leaving people dead, destroying families and terrorizing normal society)

‘An Invasive Mind: More on Street Photography’

‘Traveling to an unknown city, to an anonymous alley is always fascinating to me; mostly in order to stare at how life goes on! Stepping into a nameless street and sipping a cup of chai in its old bazaar is like a reunion of moments that are treasured in my memory tag! Street photography has unveiled secrets of eccentric daily life and it has always unfolded mystery that my heart aspires for all the time. My camera is my best friend and spending hours and hours along with it in those streets is so addictive that I am compelled to say that the best part of street photography is – you will never ever feel bored’ – GMB Akash

Where to go?

Anywhere! Here and there or everywhere. Known or unknown. Seen or unseen. Do not calculate which place is convenient and which is not. Be very casual. Start your journey and discover things that you never thought would fascinate you. Keep one thing in mind: every street trip that you will make will be a unique one if only you can merge yourself within the flow of the street.

How to overcome fear in the street?

It is very obvious that you will be very uncomfortable at the beginning. But after some time you will be okay with it. But of course you have to overcome your fear. You have to overcome the feeling that everyone is noticing you and you might have to face several rejections. Stay focused, accept rejections, enjoy walking and be very confident!

One gesture to win hearts:

Please smile. Smiling is a kind gesture. It allows you to alleviate nervousness and it makes a connection with your subject. Whenever you are going to take a shot of any person, nod and smile.

Communicate appropriately:

During street photography don’t talk too much but do talk a little bit. Small words, hello, can I take a picture, wow, great, fine, thanks small words. If you are going to make a long conversation, it happen often that some people might hesitate about your aim. In case you feel a longer conversation could bring out images then do it.

Handle yourself wisely

Be very confident in the street. Act like a professional. Feel like you have been doing it for many years. When you will be confident then the people around you will feel confident about you. Finally you will face less rejection.

Introducing yourself to strangers:

You will meet three kinds of people in the street:

a) Persons who are very welcoming about taking images. You will definitely explore this opportunity more. While meeting them you can feel it easily so it will be very comfortable for you to take images with time and to experiment.

b) There are some people who hesitant. They will not refuse you or say no to you directly but you can feel a discomfort. Then it is your responsibility to make them comfortable. Greet them, talk about the weather or simple things about yourself and you will discover after few minutes they will be more at ease.

c) Go away faces. They are very challenging and you have to respect your subject. If they do not approve of taking their pictures you have to respect that without feeling bad. The most you can do tis o make them understand that their images are fully secured and you are an aspiring photographer. Talk to them about your passion and dreams. Even after that if they say NO, just accept it. We cannot force someone to do anything!

Take a companion:

If you feel very uncertain and discomfort about shooting even after trying hard then ask a friend to accompany you for a few days. Sometimes company can make your street trips easier.

Never Hesitate:

In street photography there is not much time to waste. You cannot spend a lot of time just for one shot. It is full of capturing decisive moments for capturing. If you get an excellent shot for a moment, do not get time to ask permission. Just click, then you can talk afterward and explain it. If you hesitate the person in front of your camera will hesitate. Never hesitate.

Learn to understand people and situation:

A great attribute of any kind of photographer is when he/she can understand people. After being experienced in the street you can feel that you actually can understand what a stranger is feeling about you. Slowly you will understand people and their minds. It will help you to deal with any kind of situation in the street.

I have already shared a few experiences of mine and some advice in the Street Photography Category of this blog. Have a tour if you want to know more about the topic.

Instructor:

I teach street photography for The Compelling Image: The Compelling Image: Online-Interactive Courses in Photography and Multimedia Storytelling

If you are interested in joining my street photography course sign in: Street Photography

‘Voyage to Varanasi’

I left everything behind. The unbearable noise of some angry young men, the screams of an unknown crowd as well the very loud train station fans and their monotonous melody, all were behind me! I was running at such speed that if my friend didn’t hold on to my bag tightly while pulling it, I might have fallen on the floor along with the porter who was magically carrying six-seven bags! However we safely arrived at the train departure platform. Once again I promised myself never to photograph just before a journey as every time I forget the schedule and have to rush like I did that day.

Between hundreds of trains I was searching my Vibhuti Express. The destination is Varanasi. I pushed my head forward and suddenly some small fingers held my hand. We were both scared! The small child mistakenly holds my hand. We laughed together! We all were searching the desired Vibhuti Express. I felt a great thirst to take picture in this super busy station with its very very interesting compositions that were calling me. But then reaching the Vibhuti Express was more important than any composition. It is a known truth that when you are anticipating something with all your heart it will never come easy! The train is three hours late!

My friend closed his eyes and was resting a bit. I was resting my eyes by watching people. To see people up close and from a distance is my old habit/hobby. I was praying that the train might arrive earlier so that I could explore Varanasi in the early morning. I was afraid that I was going to lose the morning light. In front of me everyone was rushing recklessly. They were scared to miss….scared to lose…scared not to reach. But finally when they were seated in the train, they were all looking behind again and again. All of us love to go ahead, but we also feel happy to see behind us. To know how far we have come! The nagging old man sitting beside me laughed for the first time; yes, the much desired ‘Vibhuti Express’ finally arrived!

We departed the station at 8 P.M and were supposed to reach Varanasi by next morning 8:00 A.M. But the excessively slow train took 22 hours and we reached our destination at 6:00 P.M in the next evening. I knew I had lost the light but still there was some hope to catch a bit of it. I jumped out as soon as the train stopped. But there is something called luck and it had decided that I am going to have a slow day. The puller of the rickshaw that we took was driving round and round, and just as slow as our train had been. It took 45 minutes to reach a distance that normally takes 15 minutes. I was so sad when I opened my hotel room’s door. I went directly to the window and after opening it I slowly whispered, ‘I can wait my entire lifetime to take images of such colour, such an old place, with such mystery that no words can properly describe it!’

Next to my window four eyes were curiously looking at me. A monkey couple was wondering about me so as I was of them. They were hand in hand. I smiled and try to offer friendship but they were confused and then they were holding hands even tighter. The night was falling and I was writing beside the window. Suddenly I saw the couple looking at me through the window glass, so close that I could touch them. Our friendship was established. Before I went to bed it started raining. While closing the window I saw, under magical light that the monkey couple were sleeping while embracing each other! I stood for some moments. The world’s most fortunate people are those who get their loved one by their side. And the most unfortunate are those who never get the chance to feel the warmth of love!

I wake up at 3 A.M and I was in the Galis and the Ghats of Varanasi by 4 A.M. There I was – in Varanasi, the place that magnetically attracts me all the time. I started taking images enthusiastically. Varanasi – the land where experience and discovery reach the ultimate bliss. This is the most blindingly colourful, unrelentingly chaotic and magnificently compelling places on earth.

I felt brilliantly alive there. Its sights, sounds, and colors brought me immediately into a different place; absorbing me into its endlessly fascinating spectacle of ritual activity. It is situated along the west bank of the holy Ganga River in the state of Uttar Pradesh in India. It is considered as the holiest place amongst the Hindus. It always seems a magical place to me. The spiritual Ghats (steps down into the river) and the alluring Galis (a maze of narrow alleyways) are my main enticements.

Because of the rainy season the stairs of Ghats were under water. Ghat’s are the series of steps leading down to a holy river. In Varanasi, you will find around 100 Ghats. Each of the Ghats has different name, history and importance. It is quite interesting to walk along the Ghats especially in winter. But during this visit I spend time discovering Galis. Extremely narrow; the play of lights and shadows inside a Gali is very interesting. But I was very alert while I was entering inside unknown Galis and I suggest not going alone.

Since Varanasi is one of the holiest destinations for Hindus, it is very common to find various rituals going on throughout the year in this place. But my fascination was the people and their portraits. Streets of Varanasi are full of many enticing stories. I shot the whole day. Still I did not find enough time to click at as many subjects as I wanted to.

On the last day of my visit it was raining in the morning. I went out in the rain by just covering my camera with plastic and my head with a handkerchief. I was going to leave this city which is considered to be over 3,000 years old. The majestic light was shining behind the clouds. I saw astonishingly how gracefully the morning light removes all the dirt from the sky. While watching this I wished all the sorrows and suffering of the world would end like this with the light of humanity! To be able to discover such light I could come back here a thousand times and I would not mind another 22 hour voyage to return to magnetic Varanasi!

‘Today’s Slavery’

The sound of Monu’s footsteps compel us to look at him. It seems he is willingly trying to make the strange sound grab our attention towards his new gum boots. Before I speak to him, he shows all his teeth and enthusiastically says, ‘Bhaijan I bought them for 200 taka from the street. Bou (his wife) had washed them so well that I can see my face in them! Ha! Ha! Ha’

Before I compliment him something someone on my right side, Nibaron, who is Monu’s colleague of 15 years loudly said, ‘Hmm, does your new wife, still cry for you to drop the job, Monu?’ Monu recklessly replies, ‘Women are fools! She thinks tannery labourers die earlier. Allah is the one to decide. Women are crying party. Now I have these gum boots to protect me. She is happy and I am happy too!’

Monu got married to ‘Salma’ five months ago. Salma heard that tannery workers die at an early age, so she started requesting Monu to leave this dangerous job. But by doing this job for last 15 years, Monu, a 21 years-old man is surviving. He cannot imagine doing any other work than tannery nor is he capable of doing any other job.

The chronic cough he has or the rashes on his skin do not bother him anymore. Still he dreams of a better future with the 8000 taka salary. Now the dream is sweeter with his caring wife ‘Salma’.

Posing for the camera he said roughly, ‘By working in this hell, I am still alive. God might be giving me a long life bhai.’

I have been taking photographs in this factory for many years. I cannot find many of the faces I used to know. When I inquire about them the common response I hear is that because of illness they moved to their villages with their families.

The repulsive smell on my body or the sticky chemicals on my favorite jeans does not affect me anymore; Just like Monu. Only when I return from this work and the rickshaw puller turns his head several times and at last wisely says, ‘Sir, you came from tannery!’ Then I realize I am also polluting the air.

Like Monu many labourers believe that a pair of gum boots is their safe guard. Some of them tie gamsa (a traditional cotton towel) to save their lungi from the filth. But when they start working their sweat, factories chemicals, and raw leather shower them with poison and loathsome smells. A pair of gum boots and gamsa can not not save their hope to survive very long.

Every time I enter these deadly factories, I imagine that I am leaving the 20^th century and have gone back 100 years in time. The ancient plan has neither fan nor any air circulation system. Thanks to those decades old broken bricks in the wall there ia a path for some fresh air. The leather hangs from the ceiling makes the air more toxic. The unstoppable giant drum keeps moving restlessly with raw leather pieces and produces extreme laud noise. If fatigue overcomes labourer they fall asleep in the piles of raw leathers. Some labourers get a cigarette and take a break to see the sky outside. But the sky is dark and filled with smoke. The drain that is passing by is full of red chemical liquids that keep polluting the area and the mighty river Buriganga for 60 years now.

11-year old Rakib gives me the brightest smile and curiously asks, ‘What do you do with all these picture, sir?’ But he then rushes away before I can speak to him. Carrying uncountable leather pieces in his shoulder he has no time for questions and answers. Rakib’s friend Monir (7-year old) keeps pinning up the leather at the yard. After the death of his father he got the job in his father’s factory. He had no idea what had happened to his father. He only knew he was suffering from an incurable disease. He feels good to work during the whole day and it is only in evening when his heart cry for playing.

Standing beside Monir I was trying hard to understand their miseries but laughter broke my concentration. I saw a group of workers cracking jokes outside and were laughing hilariously. Life goes on. These simple people risking their lives everyday in order to live the best they can. Society is not actually willing to know about their sufferings but they are nevertheless willing to buy their processed leather which leather has a good worldwide reputation. However the savles of the toxicity and repugnant odors have no good reputation. In their way home to to their slums they cannot sit in any tea stall to relax. People shout on them for their repulsive odors which disturbs everyone. Only their produced goods get place inside a branded shop with a prestigious tag ‘Made in Bangladesh’. The makers only receive humiliation.

Tannery worker Omar Faruk sadly says, ‘If we travel by bus nobody will sit beside us. One day a man harshly said to me, ‘You must come from hell.’

(Almost all of Bangladesh’s 200-plus tanneries are concentrated in Hazaribagh, a densely populated, filthy neighborhood on the banks of the Buriganga River in southwestern Dhaka. You can smell them long before you can see them: an unbearable stench like bad eggs, rotting fish and harsh ammonia. It’s almost impossible to walk through the tanneries without a scarf pressed to your nose. At almost $1 billion a year in sales, the leather industry is one of Bangladesh’s most profitable sectors. The lives of more than 20,000 tannery workers are still at risk. After 60 years of tannery operations, no one knows what content of toxins have been poured into the river, only that it is incalculable and staggering. Chromium sulfate, lead, organohalogens, lime, hydrogen sulfide, sulfuric acid, formic acid, bleach, dyes and oils all flow into the river)

‘An Unrest Soul : On Street Photography’

‘It was midnight, a night about 12 years ago. Year was 2002. It was six years after that I started photography. Without photography nothing was precious to me. I used to save each and every penny of mine to travel and to do photography from 1996. It was a mysterious, tiring night and I did not know what exactly happened to me. I was restless and I decided to destroy my past. I wanted to start a new start with my photography. I could not like my work anymore. I set fire in all negatives that hold images of mine. I destroy each and every image that I had. Maa run as mad and stood still at my window but did not say a word. She knows I love photography more than my life and when it was burning in front of my mother she was looking at me with deep sympathy. I ignored everything. Wept silently. I felt alone and I know this will be the beginning to search a new me. 18 years I am trying to depict images that I see through my soul with the same thirst that one day I could fulfill my inner emptiness’

– GMB Akash

The place I like that I love to go very often. There are places where I went more than 100 times. Every time every place is different than my last visit. I would love to discover stories of my frames. Time changes face of place, people and in fact me. The same place that has been visited thousand times gift exclusive images with different layers.

I can smell photograph. During walking in a street suddenly a place attract me magnetically. I can smell the right place and can smell my future photograph. I wait until I get the picture I want, the waiting makes it more interesting, my attempts make me more excellent. I wait hours and hours with happiness but no boredom. Because I am sure I will get something every very special. Even I spend one day in one place just to get one shot that will remain precious to me for lifetime.

I am a nutty traveler. I never hide myself during I am photographing or traveling. I interact with the community whom I go to visit. I give them time to understand me and I take time to understand them. In any place you will find children and dogs first to welcome you. They will follow you and you have to win their hearts. If they accept you then the community will accept you. Documentary/travel/street whatever photography I am doing I always know I have to respect people and their thought. If someone refused me take picture I accept it with respect. I take photography when I feel the person is easy with me and in the time when I got an affirmative signal. After taking picture I show them and heard their comment. Sometime I take print with me to show them, surprise them. Small interactions make you confident as a communicator and a photographer. It is important to be trustable when you are a photographer. A small thanks and a big smile can win many hearts.

I want to extend my territory as photographer. Roads are like my homes. Sometime people call me ‘Specialized tourist’, sometime ‘Documentary photographer’, sometime ‘Travel photographer’. This photographer me is nobody just a medium to bridge with the people I meet. I create bridge with people’s feelings, with their joys with their sorrows. I merge with their cries, laughs. I walk in the street and collect untold stories of people. Every place has different color, smell, sound. That attraction takes me again again. I am nobody of that place but I feel I left a part of me there with the people I photographed.

‘I keep searching myself over and over again in all cities, footpaths and in streets, from country to countries. People forget about me, my face and my camera. As because I am not any part of their life. But I never can forget a single person I met in the road. I keep their pictures in my mind in my memory card. And I wish one day or one night again I will meet with any of them and will say how I kept their memories in my heart’ – GMB Akash

To Join in my upcoming street photography workshop in March 2014 please sign in at:

Making Photo Essays of the Street’ With David Bathgate and GMB Akash’

‘An Unflinching Eye : Introducing Street Photography’

‘Sometime a crow visits my balcony and its harsh calling wakes me up. Those mornings often turned me down. In such meaningless morning I just pack my bag, give myself a break and walk out in a nameless street. My endless journey welcomes me ahead and I picked memories one by another from my unknown destination. Capturing a definition of an indefinite street is street photography to me’- GMB Akash

‘Stop being bookish, follow your own theory’

‘Make yourself comfortable’ or ‘feel being at home’ these advices are too bookish to me. In practical, my heartbeat goes up and my knees shake a bit when I stand in a place that I want to express just accurately the way I am encountering. When a cat suddenly popped up with an old woman and their astonishing-frightened-funny stunt gives me a command in my head ‘click-click-click’. ‘But what I shoot!’ I missed a second and that took out all. Yes, this is the biggest challenge that street photography offers you. You have to seize the moment before your cerebrum read it. So the question is, ‘are you afraid being in street’? I believe when a person become photographer he/she leave ‘afraid/anxiety’ behind. I rather call it hesitation/nervousness and insecurity. When you jump into the street by carrying your camera you already killed your 50% fear. Now it is your nervousness that holds you back and just after clicking your first shot you are ready to rock in the road.

‘A photographer next door image’ or ‘an invisible photographer image’?

In the middle of a big crowd, surrounded by so many people different than me sometime I become unusual. And when people started noticing me by raising their eye brows then my big smile helps me out being abnormal. Yes, as a photographer it is very important that you have a familiar face with a universal smile at least an ability that tells people you are reliable. When you learn to merge in the ground then surprisingly you will see that you learn the method of being there but unseen by people. It depends on you either you want to earn a ‘photographer next door image’ or an ‘invisible photographer image’, pick one that serve your intention and that helps you to shot well.

Get the hint

The street that I often visit is not only familiar by me but I am also familiar by it. A common place I visit has a triangle turn where then comes the street corner; there I usually followed by one or two street dogs. In the beginning it was not the same. In the very first day they suspect me and even after touching them they suspiciously moves with me whole day. Now when I appear in the street they wave their tail and follow me obediently. Inhabitants know well that I am no longer a stranger. So whenever you are new to a place make a relation, get a hint or balance yourself repeating something people can understand that photography is your passion not any venture. When you are totally in a new place and you might never get another chance to be there even then try to find a mutual intimation. Trust me your understanding and relation will show in the picture you will take.

Enjoy discovering yourself

Every street is different, people belong to the street is different, smell is different, color, texture, light all are different. Indifferent is you and your camera. Discover a different you in every different street is your voyage. The biggest challenge is to discover the unique thread by this common with your third eye. For me the photograph is only a wow – when I take a picture of the street and after showing it to the curious inhabitant they express, ‘when it happened? Does it really look alike?!’ when people laugh, shout, surprise and question then I get the picture is happy to be about. It’s a treat for yourself when seating at your lab you suddenly bumped in a folder where you found the expression of a European shopkeeper is the same with an Asia shopkeeper just difference is in place and circumstance. Discovering this similarity is way more interesting than finding differences. Enjoy discovering yourself in everything that is the wow factor will keep you motivated in long run.

Inspiring trigger

Try to answer yourself why you are fascinated about street photography. What will it bring to you? Why are you passionate to be in street? Are you stopped yourself because there is no fame or name after continuing do it! Find your inspiring trigger and forget about expectation. Keep yourself motivated, ignore critiques. Find an inspiring space which appreciates that what you are doing. It can be a friend circle; it can be your blog or your website or just your facebook. It is very important to be inspired to continue your work that you are doing.

What actually Street Photography gives you?

– Street Photography helps to be a good photographer. Street photography has a trial and error method that helps you to enrich yourself as a photographer though whatever your field is.

– It brings you the utmost courage to go to that much close to the people that someone allows to welcome a stranger. Its helps you to mix with unknown people and to know about their attitude towards you

– It bounds you to take challenge. Finding a way of a maples road is aspiration of street photography.

– It will help you professionally to gain new concept, unconventional idea and will help to create your masterpiece.

– People said in street photography 99% are wasted. I said street photography teaches you photography 99% and rest 1% you have to gain.

How to do good out in the street?

– What you are carrying who cares, carry that much you can effort, just remember you have to walk a lot and you cannot annoy people by your baggage.

– Street photography helps to stay focused but you have to make the connection. Smile a lot and try to make fun with people you are meeting.

– Make street photography one of your favorite time pass. Discovering new things everyday is like surfing in a new you.

– Street photography is like swimming. I am not kidding! When you learn to swim (photographing) you will desire to go deeper.

– Learn to handle yourself in the street. It is you and your personality that will help people to look at your camera naturally.

– Until you are not enjoying your walk your camera or your mind will not take your demand.

– Take a company or a friend with you at the beginning to break the ice. Shooting alone is way too enjoyable when you know how to treat yourself best in a lone journey. Do not go out with more than three friends then shooting will be secondary.

– Keep wakening your third eye

– Look at things in the streets like you are watching a movie. Find the characters, drama, action, humor and romance.

– Carry the camera that follows your command. Do not juggle with new equipments in the street without run it previously.

In the journey of photograph limitless experiences remain uncounted. Bad news won’t keep navigators from the open seas. The street photographer who loves the work he/she is doing will never stop. The courage of such ONE gives birth of His/her kind of street photography.

Instructor :

I teach street photography in The compelling Image: The Compelling Image: Online-Interactive Courses in Photography and Multimedia Storytelling

If you are interested to join in my street photography course sign in: Street Photography

‘Street Boy’s Dream’

I am nobody and I have nothing. A simplistic human being stated as photographer who continued to question around his world. I conjure traveling in the different layers of myself and host an activist inside me by innate attributes. Yes, neither I am an industrialist nor do I hold a lion’s share of a company. For me CSR or charity is fancy word. But the passage I walked 15 years smiled melancholic to me. I marvel and interpret it to the world believing for a change. But the verb ‘Change’ itself very ‘dearly-won’. I found 18 years old drug users dyeing abandoned before I take him in my shoulder, I know how a sex worker cut off veins and her bleeding marks keep me awakening nights. I know how cold and deep an old lonely mother’s breathe can be in an elderly home. In the dormitories of injustice of the world I uphold to believe in ‘Miracles’.

Roton a 12 years old street child once said me. “You rich people just talk, talk and talk! You are nonsense, all of you are nonsense. Children of my age goes to school, plays at park, their mother clean their skin, force them to get shower. Look at my hand, my hair, my skin no one tells me to take shower. I run to carry baggage of passengers, they throw me money like I am piece of shit, police beat me, and goons take my money. No one care, nobody. I sniff shoe glue, I want to lost, and I want to delete my memory. I curse you, I curse government, I curse my unknown parents, I curse everyone of this cruel world”.

Roton’s voice echoing all the time and I can’t rest in peace with my eminence. This is the story of me and the people I care for. I feel it to tell it to you as I want you to love someone, to give tinniest love of your heart to the abandoned. Try to discover your image in the light of their eyes with love and hope. So sharing a small episode of my continual journey and once more telling you I am one of you, a person having no wealth at all but a heart to give away whatever I have. If my single word, small phase of explanation inspires you, please merge in.

You’re given this life as gift; make yourself a gift to life.

‘By wiping off tears with corner of his shirt a Teenage boy was walking through rail line. The world seems ugly with eyes pour water. A weird anger runs in his vein which is unexplainable to him even. When he takes a seat under the lazy evening light, he started feeling the pain of his chest. His father beat him by clutching with mango tree. His step mother was literally happy and didn’t give him his lunch. His crime was to fall asleep in the field with cattle. Hungry Shuvo (13) started missing his dead mother, who may never allow him to go away from home without having lunch. In the station and in such a warm day who care about an oversensitive boy and his empty stomach. Anger, depression, misery everything mock at Shuvo. Two days, three nights Shuvo had only leftover from restaurants. When he jumped into a running train, he didn’t calculate about upcoming calamities of his life, only he heard the roar of his angry heart. When he started seeing around him, he saw many of other children reluctantly sleeping in the floor of station’s platform. In the time Shuvo feels he is not alone. Unknown faces become familiar and more affectionate. He sleeps with serenity after three nights of sleeplessness. From the day Shuvo is bohemian.

When Shuvo tell me his tale, Raihan (11) laughs loud and say ‘Police first day take me and beaten up a lot. They thought I take drug. I don’t even know what Dandi (a drug street child takes) is’. All of their daily earning is 60-80 Tk by carrying baggage of passengers. Sharif (14) remained silent. Neither he wants to share his story nor listen to others. Depression is in his skin, in everywhere of his belongings. When I smiled at him, he smiles back too, then whisper, “Do you think I can do it ?” I replied “YES! Three of you can!’

Their curies eyes, hope on me, their trust making me nervous inside. What I can do further? In a scorching afternoon I can lend my hands to them and show affection but what about their wound which is as fresh as their age! It’s been already months I seat with children show movies, counseling with them, taken them into lunch BUT THEN? One, two, Three thus hundred children and their dreams! Am I capable to hold them all! But I stop myself questioning. I started doing something. With my nameless family our journey begins. Shuvo, Sharif and Raihan are three members of my family.

‘Can’t sleep last night Bhai, I pushed Sharif many times and ask him when the sun will rise and you will come’ – It was Raihan speaking to me in the final day. Three of them were wearing two paints and two-three shirts at a time. They don’t want to lose their precious dirty cloths so they wear it all the time. Returning from a long assignment and was on the way when I received call at 6 am from Shuvo asking when I will come. I change my mind and by hanging the bag I started towards them skipping home. I was 10 minutes late but as soon as I appear to the place three of them running to me like kitties. Besides them many of others were wondering with curiosity. I heard a loud voice of Paglu (self-named) ‘Bhai, if they become good boys I will join you too. I swear my Mojnu (a street dog) that I will never take drug again.’ Paglu is along them with whom I pass a day monthly, show them my images and discuss topics needed to share.

When I walked with my three boys I realize they didn’t eat anything yesterday. So first we went to have our breakfast and had it full. They listen to my each word carefully and we planned what we will do in coming three months. Already I taught them small calculation weeks ago. Then I went to buy clothes for them. Raihan is the youngest and started demanding many things while Sharif scolds him for his behavior. When again I ask them, is that they can remember their address/home and I can take them back like Masud, then their faces become cloudy. After a long period of silence Sharif said ‘After I become succeed in life I will return back. Then you can take me home’. I realize their mental condition and don’t force any more.

In the shopping mall they started selecting their desired cloths in the time of bargaining I shared sharing their small story with curious people though none of the shopkeepers sacrifice a penny of profit for the sake of these boys. I don’t wonder because I know ‘responsibility’ term only referred to ‘family’ in our society. & we cannot change until we realize from ourselves. After buying cloths, we buy sandals, combs, mirror, oil, everything they needed to live a children life properly. I took them to cut their hairs and nails. Then I took them to a place for shower.

When I stood beside them with soap they were the world’s happiest children in that moment. I can’t control to capture the moment with my camera. Crowd of people were following us, few of them thanks me and few of them make me annoyed. After having full packed lunch we moved to our working place.

I gift them small opportunity of work and connect them with business under a mentor. MD. Melon has a popcorn business who alliance with us and agreed to be their supervisor. I gift them the capital for popcorn business for three months. At first day of their work I myself sell popcorn in the road with them to inspire them by standing next to them full time. We calculated profit and they put it in their own piggy bank as saving of their first day job. They were amazed to see that together they made a good profit and still had enough for food. Thus their story starts, every day after finishing school they come to their Supervisor and take products and go for selling. At evening they return back calculate prices and pass free time by playing. It’s been three months and they make their capital double. The name of their business is ‘Street Boy’s Dream’. Now they are planning to shift their business for selling Ladies accessories and cosmetics.

Beside them other groups of children are doing different kind of small businesses by my gift which comes from my book ‘Survivors’. It is bless to share that ‘First Light Institute of Photography’, the photo school, I am going to launch in this August will be their institution and support center. I dream to go along with street boy’s dream. Their small steps are gift for my life, reincarnation of my soul. Their affection has filled my heart with utmost peacefulness. I believe, we cannot afford to lose hope, for we are all part of making some small and large changes, each day, each moment. We all can make a deposit into someone’s life. The best part of this form of giving is that it is LIMITLESS. By which we can make an incredible difference in their world.

“Survivors” Part I

“It seems like a lost world, where standing in a quivering dark, where there is nothing but darkness, a place where you stand alone and shiver in fear. I experienced the same. Children who are inhaling pains within themselves every second make me feel small, their sweating smile flashes their innocent identity, touches of their dirt-oily little fingers interpret their presence in my life, their spoken or unspoken life stories makes me unrest. Since then, I am upholding them inside of me. A simple and small photograph’s emotions might inconceivable to you if still now you do not know any of such children who straggle each day to make a living from nothing. Till the day, I know I had to do and I have to do my bit, may be it could be major, may be it could be minor but that was the day, I open the door of my heart and take them in. I vow to fulfill their lost smile by refilling it in their innocent lips. The creation I am crafting in 10 years never give me such feeling , but then first I felt the tender of giving birth of the creation by dedicating it to the angles of hell, at least my first endeavor to bring them up from the darkest hell. I celebrate my rebirth by expanding my arms, placing as more children as I can and thus my voyage begins.”- GMB AKASH

I cannot remain mute about the oppression that divides human beings — which is one of the reasons I commenced photography and it’s been 14 years I am doing. And it is my duty as a photographer and artist to point with my pictures at every aspect of existence in the society and world I live in, to show what can be shown, to go deep into every milieu and also into every aspect of poverty, deprivation and hardship that I encounter – because the only sin for a photographer is to turn his head and look away. After 14 years, acquiring tons of awards and gaining access to all major media frankly I experience NO CHANGE in the life of people I photographed.

Despite knowing a photographer duty only tilted for showing and investigating reality but this simple rule does not bring peace to my heart. Once an 8-year old balloon maker told me, “I took some damaged balloons for my little sister; I have no time to play. I have only time to support my parents,” I realized at that point I should turn my lens on lives like them.

I decided to dedicate whatever fund I left after make a living of mine to give to these ‘Survivors’. First I decide, I will gift them opportunity which will come from my personal earnings, portion of print sells or selling portion from my book ‘Survivors’. In the industry I am a straggler yet my pursuits provoke me to make my first experiment before I publish my book ‘Survivors’. I started searching faces inside the book and outside the book, which I photographed and found in vulnerable situation. One year I compromise my time, my photography, my assignment and my daily life to search these faces, I started living with them, understanding them and keep finding what I can do to make them able to earn a better life together. My idea is, working with them within the circumstances, gifting them the opportunity which will come as advantage in their life, advocate them as an assistant, monitoring their changes in life in one word to do everything that I will do to change my fate if I were them. Searching a face which I shoot 10 years ago is not an easy job, a face can be invisible in a crowd but I am fortunate to find many of them and building trust on me. 10 successful families consisting of ave 60 members make my dream come true. I ensure their life better, much better than they were living. & this gives me faith to publish my book ‘Survivors’ which is and will be the source of finance and gifting business/opportunity/education/chance to these ‘Survivors’ whom I photographed past 10 years. It was the day when I finally face my eyes to these children and touches their hand knowing I can at least rescue few of them from their daily hell. I become one of them, I become their hope, I become their asset and thus I started valuing myself and understand the significance and purpose of my rebirth.

It was just one year ago when I again found out Munna, whom I photographed at 2006. ‘Integrity with innocence’ this is the concrete of Munna’s character portrayal. Five years ago I first met Munna. Five years have passed fates of Munna & his father brings no change in their lives. At 2011, only difference was, with his five years experience Munna was getting 1600 taka ($1=72taka) per month. Moreover 12 years old Munna was running his younger sister education with his extra income of Friday overtime.

Munna’s father Alamgir was a cobber. Their family is consisting of five members who receive continuous negligence from their community as he works as cobber. Munna & his sister ashamed to say that his father is cobber and his little income cannot give education to his younger daughter Shathi and hunger forced Alamgir to send his little son to the factory which produces rickshaw particles. Alamgir elder daughter has to get married at early age because of poverty. They managed to eat hand to mouth, but without depending on Munna’s income their foods cannot be assured. Munna’s younger sister appeared to her class one final exam by borrowing pencils from neighbors, she had nothing without will for education. Munna works in a factory which produces intolerable noise during work. His 9am-7pm works ruined his childhood. His overtime income never allowed him to play. In fact he lost his interest for playing. A shy, unspoken boy whose whole body was covered with dust and permanent scratch on skins dull his brightness in an extent that he seems belong to the darken factory. During working with him in his work time, I never saw his smile. He had no ambition, no dream and surprisingly had nothing to share with anyone.

I aim to help Munna & his family. & my journey with them begins.

After seating several sessions with Munna’s family, we come to a decision that Munna’s father is the person who can be the financial in-charge of the full family and setting him in a business that he is capable to do will be helpful for the full family. After our market survey, by understanding the business chains he decided and I agreed with him to let him do business of cucumber. My logic is not to give money at their hand. I went with him and prepare everything; in short I assist him in every way to do the business. After one month of successful business Alamgir take out Munna from the factory. Their family started having three times food and able to provide rent of the house in proper time. He manages to make his capital triple in three months.

Munna’s younger sister running her school and did top in result. She will be in class four next year. Munna’s only one dream is to support his sister in education and fulfilling his family’s loans which are liabilities of their bad time. Still he wants to support his father by at least doing something. Within two months Alamgir tried to admit Munna at school but Munna told him in his spare time he will go to night school to get same age students like him and at day time he wants to do something he likes. As well Alamgir was afraid as they are living in slum and children who have nothing to do mostly get mixed with people who supplies drugs/engage in bad works. Again after seating with them, Munna expressed to me he wants to do popcorn business and he wants to establish himself independently. I realized I cannot take out him from the situation; I have to assist them to get a better life in their present situation. So I agreed with him and go to see first what will be his changes in life if he sells popcorn near his home at sadarghat.

Now every day, Munna willingly wake up early morning after brushing his teeth he seats with his sister to learn from her. Then he goes to ghat and buys popcorn from vendor later he sells popcorn till afternoon in ghat and finishing his work at 1pm he came at home. Now within months his appearance has changes a lot, his face, hands, and legs, fingers scars are recovering and mostly vanishes. The best thing is that now he laughs, he is making friends in evening field, he is proud that he is doing his own selling and helping his family beside education. Munna who lost most of his childhood in blocked, dull factory now loves to spend time with people by selling popcorn. He becomes vocal and ambitious. He keeps savings from his selling profit of popcorn. Munna’s sister Sathi dreams to become doctor. With the income of Munna’s father and Munna they are happily dreaming for their future.

Every evening Munna plays cricket with friends. Within Nine months Munna is recovering his forgotten happiness. His few hours works, playtime, quality family time and private education changes his life visibly. A family who hardly once managed one time food now can ensure nutritious foods for their children. A pessimistic Munna is now very much optimistic about his life and future. His family is earning happiness by putting out of their mind about their past bad days. I dream to get hundreds of Munna in my journey and to refill their lost smile. I am happy that at least there are many munnas with me and I am able to make them a part of my life. I will share these stories of my life with you one by one. It’s my belief that if a single hand comes to hold a child miracle in their life can happen.

“I am a story teller, nothing but I steal emotions, this link me to those lives which wrapped me in sentiment. I am a simple human being; I do mistake and learn from it. But I like to do experiment and I hate to be defeated. I try and keep trying until I achieve. I will keep contributing magic in lives I face with my camera. I will do my part, I will do my bit. A quote from Helen Keller inspires my journey.

“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do.”

If your heart is moved to do something do not make it complex, plan it, do it & do it right now. Stop dreaming in expectation of Superman. Within you there is a vast chance of opportunity spread your wings & bring humanity.” – GMB AKASH

Ashes of Souls

“A silent burial ground, where may be the ashes of wounded souls are still encircling. Broken pieces of brunt smashed tiles with countless busted glasses can tell the tale how staircases could not save hundreds of scorched living beings. Imagining myself at the place of these unfortunate garments workers who burnt alive, I felt vulnerable. Shoes, bangles or an unfinished ironed cloth in the stand or the half eaten evening tiffin are standing witness, how workers died helplessly. Pieces of glass bangles all over the floor, as mostly female workers had faced the tragedy, were witness of a violent disaster those no one of them even seen in nightmares. & thus by facing fire they lost their existence in burning blaze” – GMB Akash

Tazreen Fashions, located in a rural area of Ashulia occupies a nine-storied building. The ground floor, which stored the factory’s raw materials, had the only entrance to the factory, with three staircases leading to other floors. The fire at the eight-story building of the apparel factory started on the first floor, quickly cutting off all three exits from the building. Survivors stated that at least one exit was locked while no emergency exits existed in the building whatsoever. Some workers tried to escape the fire by jumping out of the windows of upper floors – many of them died. Others choked to death in the thick smoke of burning fabrics. Many of the bodies the firefighters found in the ruins were burnt beyond recognition. Later it was estimated that more than 1,000 people could have been inside the building when the fire started. But survivors claims more. Even it takes more than two hours for fire fighters to arrive at the factory. Firefighters trying to reach the blaze were slowed because the narrow road leading to the factory made it difficult to get to the site and there was no source of water nearby. It took firefighters over 17 hours to douse the blaze at the factory, after it started on Saturday evening November 24. The fire at Tazreen Fashions Ltd, lead to the death of reportedly 111 workers, but witnesses and survivors alleged that the real number dead is possibly much higher.

Raziv is one of the Survivors of the tragic incident; he worked at fourth floor along 300 other workers that evening. He said, “I smelt smoke and ran downstairs at third floor and found that the place was already full with black fumes and I cannot breathe properly. With the sound of crying women the electricity went off within 5 minutes and most of the female workers had no mobile phone atleast to see though the phone light. I accompanied by my three friends & went at the small room of the third floor where I was atleast 200 woman were standing & crying helplessly. With another worker, I broke the window of the room and give the place to female workers to go out but most of them was so afraid and cannot do anything. I cannot be selfish to fly alone and helped them to jump through. But as soon as the fire was increasing I run to the biggest exhaust fan of the floor, many women workers seated at prayer and many started losing sense. Only by hand, I broke out the fan but cannot jump. The fire was so scary that I lost my power, I called and cried to my brother, he just said ‘Jump!Jump! Then I jumped to the roof of a shed next to the factory and found myself injured at the ground! I survived but I had no money for my treatment and no one asked me to help, even after five days of the incident I am searching for my coworkers and had not get any money for my treatment. I come to the factory for my four months due wages, no expectation from these rich bosses.” Along Raziv, Few more fire survivors said, that most victims died of suffocation as the blaze started on the ground floor warehouse, trapping the night-shift staff.

In hospitals cases are alike. Injured workers hardly save themselves form fire, some lost their memory, some are in trauma, poor families has nothing to give them better treatment. Amongst huge numbers of injured, few are receiving treatment and rests of the survivors are not fortunate to get treatment except lying at home for money crisis. A survivor Kushi stated that, after jumping from the third floor she broke her legs and cried at least one hour for help but no one was there and eventually she lost her sense.

Inside the living zone of these garments workers are not rosy. Jhilpar Slum is accommodating at least 20000-30000 textile workers and alike this slums garments workers living throughout all industrial hubs with daily straggles. Rooms of 10 feet by 10 feet accommodate minimum four women workers which monthly rent is 3000 tk. One toilet and one kitchen are definite for ten families of the slum. But still after having this trouble, passing through narrow life lines women garments workers are appreciating their lives as an independent being but incident like fire in Tazreen fashions has break out all hidden frustrations of them.

Accompanying workers in the fight for their deserved salaries I also faced problems with police officers. They tried to stop me for taking photos and said many times that I am ruining my country’s reputation. Even in many cases the injured, victim’s families and workers faced continual negligence by police, local authority even after so much pressure from national and international media and having consolation from all over the world they had to fight for their due salaries. End of the day they knows they have to fight for their right after losing their dears ones and even facing fire may be easier than earning rights and justice.

Nilufar lost four members of her family. While she received call from her brother, she heard only shout, ‘Save us!” ‘Help Us’! The phone was on the line for 20 minutes & she helplessly heard the sound of wounded peoples and their mourning. She passed the whole night in front of the factory gate along her two little brothers. While rescuers had lined up all the recovered bodies on the grounds of a nearby school, Nilufar unzipped bag after bag, searching her mother, father, brother and sister-in-law. She said the charred human remains looked like chunks of coal, but no where she found any dead bodies of her lost dear faces. Police wants ID cards of these four members then she replied, “I cannot found their burnt bodies after running three days, where the hell I would find ID cards!’ The tragedy does not end here; they have a long future to bear the wound with them with a tragic memory in mind.

“While leaving the place I heard, a mother exclaims that her son’s blood demand Justice. We all know their sweats, their bloods asking answers. No, we can’t stands at more loss. No Space for Further burials. Each drop of blood, each drop of worker’s sweat asks JUSTICE. Nothing more, nothing less” – GMB Akash

‘Quest for Justice – Vigilantes in Pink’

“In the time of articulating the story ‘Vigilantes in Pink’ I apprehend that Woman has the supreme power of the supreme Being. She can be the one who eliminates sufferings; she symbolizes her mastery over all qualities which society never admitted characteristically. In their sadistic world – Gulabi gang never lost their hope, fighting against the injustice they are cleaning themselves a bit. Yes, I learn from them, each day we will not get a chance to save somebody’s life, but each day of our lives offers us an opportunity to affect one”

– GMB Akash

“My real strength is not in the stick, it is in my capacity my goddess gave me to give lessons to those abusive men” – Malti, from gulabi gang

Dressed in poignant pink saris, the all-female gang shames abusive husbands and corrupt officials.The several hundred vigilante women of India’s northern Uttar Pradesh state’s Banda area proudly call themselves the “gulabi gang” (pink gang), striking fear in the hearts of wrongdoers and earning the grudging respect of officials. Fed up with abusive husbands and corrupt officials, India’s poorest women are banding together, taking up arms, and fighting back. Their quest for justice is actually working. “Pink Gang” fights for the rights of women and other marginalized people in rural India.

Banda is one of the poorest parts of one of India’s most populous states. It is among the poorest 200 districts in India. Over 20% of its 1.6 million people living in 600 villages are lower castes or untouchables. Drought has parched its already arid, single-crop lands. To make matters worse, women bear the brunt of poverty and discrimination in Banda’s highly caste-ridden, feudalistic and male dominated society. Dowry demands and domestic and sexual violence are common.

Sampat Pal Devi who was married off when she was nine, wife of an ice cream vendor, mother of five children, and a former government health worker who set up and leads the “pink gang”. She utters,

“We are a gang for justice.”

Everyday many cases come to the gang from the village and villages from nearby. A mother brings in her weeping daughter who has been thrown out by her husband demanding 10,000 rupees from her parents. Sampat Devi tells her “gang” that they will soon march to the girl’s in law house and demand an explanation from the husband. “If they don’t take her back and keep her well, we will resort to other measures”. The pink sorority is not exactly a group of male-bashing feminists – they claim they have returned 11 girls who were thrown out of their homes to their spouses. They are against injustice just not against males.

Even Pal’s group gained dishonor in early days for beating up men who abused their wives. If they heard a husband was being violent, they would show up at his door with sticks – the same wielded by local cops when patrolling their beat—and demand he change his ways. Of the many cases that Pal handles every day, the majority are related to domestic violence, dowry demands, and abusive in-laws.

At first it was just five women, all old friends. But in a span of five years, the group has grown into a powerful brigade of more than 40,000 women, including 10 district commanders, who run the gang’s outposts across the district of Bundelkhand—an area that spans 36,000 square miles. These local Pink Gang stations operate in the same way as Pal’s own home does: They are meeting places for women to discuss their problems and, like Pal’s own home, the doors are always open.

” Gulabi Gang proves that unity can be an answer to protest against the wrong stream. Why should we live our lives in constant fear of failure? While we can throw out all nonsense of our life alone! We ought to win the losing battle of life by fatal struggle. It’s not fair only to live in the line of survival. Surely we have got to make something more well than what we have got.” – GMB Akash

Life and Death in Pashupati

“Here and there they are seating in the courtyard and on the shrine platform with absorbed in detailed memories of a distant happiness. Or it is a place where elderly people are left by their families to die? Thousands question will haunt you but there is no one to answer you but only your inner realm of emotion. They submits to being fed, here, in a old home, It’s the same every day, every day…..I understand, when you get here you don’t worry about the future. Then, I mesmerize, May God bless and give them solace.” – GMB Akash

Once you enter the premises of the Briddhasram at Pashupathinath you can’t help but feel like you are transcended time back at least half a century or more, to a place where the world moves very slowly.

Looking at the bed side a damped photo of a grandchild while a grandma smiles and say she didn’t see her last 10 years yet she sleeps with a same photo in her mind. They were like reciting their homelessness to me. I have to capture their souls to keep their image from disappearing out of sight.

There, you can see all grey haired elderly citizens doing nothing but spending lazy moments for hours in the courtyard and on the shrine platform. Some curious eyes follow you as you walk pass the welfare gate. If any of them is busy praying than other is trying hard to bend and dust off his cloths. A place, all you hear is the steady sound of the wheeled metallic support of an elderly with crippled feet or a faint sound of a broken radio which is playing Nepali song or news.

(Social Welfare Centre Briddhashram is the only Elderly’s Home operated by His Majesty’s Government in the Kingdom Nepal. At present it is being operated by the name of Social Welfare Centre Elderly’s Home, Pashupati since 1977 A. D. The total sheltering capacity of this Elderly Home is 240 persons. These residents suffer from many illnesses associated with old age; including paralysis, failing eyesight and deterioration of mental faculties)

For some it is a depressing scene to see people at the end of life, away from family, living in the Briddhasram. But for many, this is a place where they seek refuge from an ever speeding life and feel satisfied enough simply helping and sharing talk with the older citizens. The residents of the home don’t talk much to each other, which gives you an aura of wilderness where no word is spoken; but they really live for each other closely for rest of their life. This home for the elderly fills one with hope. What gives hope is that although they have lost families and possessions, the residents still care, they care for each other and they retain a deep sense of humanity.

Many people believe that they must help and protect their parents, when they become old. I personally believe that this is a moral obligation that every child should have towards their parents, whichever the way they choose to do so but they should never let them break apart alone.

“Through my lens I try to listen to their silent voices, in absolute solitude and silence,for I am sure I shall be able to hear about their unbearable wounds in which they stumbled upon alone years after year. So I take out my camera, go inside the place and merged with their pain”

– GMB Akash

Ships’ Graveyard

“This is an emblematic depiction of the agony of hard labor. For saving themselves from hunger they breathe in asbestos dust and toxic waste. Thus they are risking their lives everyday. On the verge of death they risk their lives in order to endure themselves. They are passing their days on one of the world‘s most unregulated and hazardous industries, leaving a trail of debris, disability and death in its wake. I spend 10 days in the Gaddani ship-breaking yard north of Karachi in 2005. I witnessed workers dismantling large ships, piece by piece using no protection, in absence of tools, where one wrong move could result in death, but they were continually depending in their bare hands. In a city of dying ships flames with smoke rising, tormented with ship body parts, metal residue, asbestos, and oil spills. Barefooted workers with little access to necessary tools are vanishing ships on the rusty sand of Gaddani and break down these steel giants coming from all the harbours of the world.”

– Gmb Akash

The beach of Gaddani, 50 miles north of Karachi in Pakistan, has become one of the two world biggest cemeteries of super tankers, cargoes and other vessels in the world. Thousands of men, mostly Pashto migrants, toil over the ships. They are seasonal workers, a large number of native and immigrant workers returning to their homeland near the Afghan border at harvest time. The group consists of perhaps from Afghanistan. They pen for their beloved, whom they get to see only during the year ends. For around USD 1.20 a day, thousands of workers labour to dismantle dozens of ships each year at the ship-breaking yard in Gaddani.

Rashed, a labourer at the Gaddani ship-breaking yard has worked for five years dismantling ships. He said: “Had we had any other way of earning bread, we would not have come here.” Workers are always under high risk of accident, though they hardly care to secure themselves. Under hitting rains of sparks, blowtorches split through the thick steel skin of a ship. As they are cut lose, the pieces of metal plummet to the ground with a roar. I saw workers, toiling ceaselessly, as though banished forever to an underworld.

Many workers operate in tight spaces where the air is thin, and in high temperatures caused by hot welding, which is widely used, not to mention that they are constantly exposed to flammable liquids like paints and solvents. The work carried well into the night shipyard in Gaddani, Pakistan. This is the ship graveyard that serves as the final destination for a significant part of the world’s fleet.

“Barefooted workers would take apart, bit by bit, the dying ships with their bare hands, shipyard in Gaddani, Pakistan. On their shoulders, workers bore great metal plates to their destination. People complain about their crappy lives working in an air conditioned work place, imagine having this as your only option in life.”

– Gmb Akash

‘Nothing to hold on to’

“When the train starts your feet will shake and you will automatically try to hold something, but there is nothing to hold on to. From 2005 I went up the train. Sitting or lying on the corroded metal roof of a train moving at 40 kilometers/hour is dangerous. By knowing that any time accident can happen you obvious to be nervous. It gives you an insecurity and makes it more risky. In that time there was no one who can tell me the rule of hanging in a running train, there was no example of photograph by which I can inspire myself to capture moments in camera. But I did not think twice to step into the slippery train and attempted to make a new series on the bravery of some insignificant heroic lives.”

– Gmb Akash

Seven years ago I had to travel many times by train to come to the city. During traveling I noticed low income people were traveling in the roof of the train and even in between joining line of the train. Most of them were low wage working class and traveled with high risk of severe accident. I was surprised to the fact when I discovered few of them traveled many times of the day with life risk. For knowing the reason my interest had taken me to the root. I pick my camera and leave my seat. Thus my journey starts in the running train. I had a basic curiosity to know about people whom I intend to photograph. From beginning of my journey I work for those people who are fighting endlessly to survive without anything but a smile. For taking photo of them I blended myself into the same conditions which help me to get the insight of the story. This inquisitiveness leads me in the top of the train. And I become one of the free passenger of regular running train. Thus I got familiar with the scary situation of the fearful journey; discover people and above all I took pictures.

Uncountable times, I went to the roof of the train. Often traveling made me familiar with scariness of a running train. People become well-known to me. I find out so many different stories of people and their determination of surviving. When I manage myself to step straight then I pick my camera and start capturing my feelings. No one travel to risk their life to get pleasure. All were unable to manage travel cost as they were living under the margin. Many of those travelers work as day laborer, many of them goes for selling fishes in city which they collect from their villages. All of them have to return also. These travel costs can not manage by them so they risk their life in the top of the train.

This traveling is very addictive. When you will discover people who have power on them, who were bravely setting without caring anything the something will happen to you too. These people inspire you to live life without getting frustrated. They have nothing with them only have bravery to fight against all odds of life. So this journey put power inside me to fight in rest of my life with bravery and inspire to take any risk to live a life.

In winter surface of the train get slippery, once I stepped without been concern and attempted to fall. It is difficult to take picture in opposite of the direction of the running train. Along other passengers I have faced terrible winter, unwanted rains and continual heat in the top of the train. Many times wires hit me, every time I thought I should not go more. But again I can not resist myself. Getting a good picture is toughest thing while you need to spend days and months for the right moment and for the right click. I won travel photographer of the year title in 2009 on the series. Besides all I am fortunate to be able to stand in this fearful journey which will continually give me power for rest of my life.

“I recall all these journeys repeatedly. My achievement is that I established this series as one of favorite topic for photographers. I feel happy when I see photographers come from around the world to get a free ride in the top of the train and takes pictures. All these make me happy. I collect all these treasured moment and I am working for publishing a book soon on this series. I have to say, I am fortunate by killing fears of me to become able to go to the top of the train. There is nothing to hold on to, only your fearlessness”

– Gmb Akash

Interview with David Bathgate – A leading photographer who guides to achieve.

“David Bathgate is one of my best teachers I had in my life, who always teaches me to be simple, be honest and to respect others. He has a deep sense of responsibility as a photographer and as a mentor to keep no secret for own purpose rather to spread all his knowledge to others. This behavior leads him to become a great photographer and earn respect by everyone. His words, his works, his working style easily could uphold a photographer’s perspective in terms of being able to become a good human and an outstanding photographer together” Gmb Akash

David Bathgate studied anthropology and journalism at the Pennsylvania State University in the U.S., earning a doctorate and master’s degree, respectively, in those two disciplines. Subsequently, university teaching and visual journalism followed as parallel career pursuits. First photographing and writing for local magazines and newspapers, David eventually took his co-careers to Australia and worked on photographic projects in Indonesia and Southeast Asia. In 1993 he closed the door on academia to become a full-time visual storyteller, covering social and environmental topics, worldwide.

Today, David is represented by Corbis Images and works regularly in Asia and the Middle East, as well as in Europe, for publications such as Time, Newsweek, The New York Times, Geo, Stern, Spiegel, Focus and The London Sunday Times Magazine.

Gmb Akash: Please introduce yourself. How did your journey in photography begin?

David Bathgate: My name is David Bathgate. I’m an American photographer, living in Germany and represented by Corbis Images. My earliest interest in photography came simply through enjoying the wonderful pages of National Geographic Magazine, when I was a kid. It wasn’t until high school and my involvement with the school newspaper, that I began making photos myself – with a 35mm camera and 50mm, owned by the school.

I worked as both a writer and a shooter at the paper and when I entered university; I studied journalism/photojournalism and combined this with anthropology, to satisfy my interest in other cultures and peoples. This combination placed me on the path I still follow today.

Gmb Akash: You are known for your outstanding works on Asia and the Middle East, can you please share your experience in the lands of Afghanistan? By mentioning adversity & opportunity for creating “Afghanistan-the country”

David Bathgate: My way to Afghanistan was a bit convoluted. It actually has connections to Bangladesh and teaching at Pathshala – South Asian Institute for Photography. It was through teaching workshops at Pathshala that I met National Geographic photographer, Reza Deghati.

Following the ousting of the Taliban from Kabul in late 2001, Reza and his brother Manoocher were setting up an institute in that city for training young Afghans – men and women – to become photojournalists and to tell their own visual stories about life in their country. Having an interest in this project, I contacted the brothers and shortly thereafter, found myself in Kabul as a photojournalism instructor at “Aina” (meaning “Mirror” in the Afghan language, Dari).

From there, my personal work has focused on both military action and civilian life. I’ve been embedded with U.S. Army troops and marines a total of 13 times in the last 10 years. Always on these embeds, I try to focus on both sides of the issue, capturing the daily lives of normal Afghan people, caught up in the struggles of conflict. It is my hope that such coverage will, to some degree, contribute to mutual understanding and eventual stability of Afghanistan as a democratic land.

Gmb Akash: You have had an influence on a number of photographers. You are one of my most favorite mentor & to so many others. Did you ever think of yourself as a teacher in the beginning?

David Bathgate: Yes, in some ways I did. I’ve never been one to keep information and experiences to myself. I like to pass it all on – to give others a glimpse of where I’ve been, what I’ve been through and what I’ve learned from it. Photography is in large part a solitary venture. We work most times alone. But the end product of our work as photographers – as photojournalists, is to “communicate” to a broader audience. This is my aim as a photographer and by teaching others the process – by extension, that audience grows ever larger.

Gmb Akash: We would like to request you to introduce “The compelling Image” to our Asian photographers. What extra facilities could a student get from virtual classroom from any of the course of TCI to bring out a promising photographer from them?

David Bathgate: There are lots of great “on location” photo workshops – worldwide. And many of these are taught by accomplished and inspiring instructors. But not everyone can afford the time and money to benefit from such venues. This is where online-interactive courses can be of great value to aspiring photographers.

The Compelling Image (TCI) courses and workshops, taught online and interactively by world-renowned photographers, bring that valuable learning experience to you – wherever you live – and at a fraction of “on location” workshop cost.

Key to TCI design is the “Virtual Classroom” learning experience, whereby students upload weekly assignments that can be done wherever they live and within their own busy time schedules. Within classes, all students can view each others’ work and instructor comments associated with it. From here, constructive and educational discussion follows from all sides, with the result being that students learn not just from one person, but from the insights, perspectives and experiences of all students on the course. It’s a dynamic way of learning photography and video production and a practical alternative to costly workshops held half-way around the world.

Gmb Akash: As a photographer what is the most complicated issue you experienced & how you overcome?

David Bathgate: This undoubtedly has to do with conflict zones – such as Afghanistan – and being two to three weeks in the midst of all that a military combat unit experiences. First challenge is gaining the acceptance of young soldiers for whom I’m an unknown outsider. I deal with this through friendliness, “transparency” and doing what I can outside my role as a photographer. I fill sandbags like they do, help clean up the spaces we occupy, like they do. I generally “hang out with the troops,” as much as possible. It usually takes a few days, but eventually I fall into conversations an acceptance. I become just another member of the unit – for a brief period and albeit armed with only a camera.

The hardest part of it all, however, is when someone in the unit becomes injured in combat – or worse. This is when making photos becomes a delicate and ethical affair. These are the most difficult parts of the job for me – doing my work objectively and still maintaining a feeling of being human.

Gmb Akash: For creating new project or series what priories a photographer (all-purpose) need to keep in mind?

David Bathgate: I’m a news “junkie” – constantly following BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera. I follow news items and features in the internet, magazines and newspapers. I take notes on things and people that would be of interest to me, photographically. This is a good first step for any photographer looking for projects or starting one already in mind. Fact-gathering and establishing contacts – through Facebook, Lightstalkers and other social media is the way I approach projects. And the internet has made all this easier to accomplish, in very short time.

Photographers need to be business people today, too. So when planning a new series or project, take serious notes and keep accurate accounts of the budget you’re setting for your project – “money-wise” and “time-wise.”

Once you have this in place, outline your plan in as much detail as possible. Where do you need to be? What kinds of shots should be included? Who do you need to contact and how will you gain access all that is needed for your coverage?

Manage your project well, too. This means paying strict attention to your work-flow, once you start making pictures. And filing your material promptly and orderly as soon as your work starts to accumulate, should be top-of-the-list.

Much of this has always been associated with being a successful photographer, but with the advent of evermore sophisticated digital capture and filing systems, the need for disciplined organization is most critical – even before that first photo is made.

Gmb Akash: Give your opinion on Photography as profession.

David Bathgate: Photography, for me, is a way of life – and a fantastic one. And if it is a “way of life” for you, you are passionate about it every moment of the day – and often in your dreams, as well. That’s what it is for me – and more.

This is the creative side to the profession of photography. There’s the pragmatic side, too. Grow as a visual artist, but ground your profession in solid business practices – marketing, record keeping and making sure you earn what you are worth as a creator of distinctive and valuable photographs.

As for the “market place,” some people are saying that this is drying up for photographers. Fewer magazines and newspapers – all victims of changing times and economies. I don’t see it this way, though. There are ever-expanding opportunities for photographers publishing in the internet and this will continue to increase. The next stage – and it’s already begun – is “pay-for-content” publications on-line, which will boost earning potential for photographers who may never have seen publication of their work in paper form. I believe the future for photographers in the internet to be a bright one.

Gmb Akash: A brief paragraph on “One day Journey with photographer David Bathgate”?

David Bathgate: Bottom line – I like simplicity. I keep equipment and anything I must carry – and sometimes run with – to a bare minimum. I usually carry one camera body – a Canon 5D II with a 24-70mm 2.8 lens. In a jacket pocket (or pouch clipped to my belt), I have a 24mm, 1.4 prime lens. If the country / situation is previously unknown to me, or I need an interpreter, I’ll hire a knowledgeable local for the work. With a general daily plan in mind (discussed with my “fixer” / guide-interpreter), I set out early with the mind-set that all will go well. And fortunately, it usually does. Flexibility and adaptability are the key when it doesn’t, though.

Gmb Akash: We request you to give message for our raising photographers & we want to receive few of your secret that you want to pass.

David Bathgate: If you want to take your photography to the professional level, you must work hard at it. There’s a lot of competition out there and you must feel driven to make photographs in a way that reflects your vision of the world and your’s alone. Know your camera craft and work in a unique way. Look at the work of others, analyze it and learn from it. Work on projects that interest you the most and don’t settle for the superficial shots – those first photos that anyone and everyone makes. Dig deeper to capture the emotion involved and communicate it clearly to the viewer. This is what will get you recognized for your abilities – your special talent as the one behind the camera.

The only “secret” I’m aware of, is that there is no secret to success as a photographer. Just about everyone has a different story as to “how they got there.” And don’t think that “formal” education in photography is always required. Most professional photographers took workshops and courses along the way, but studied something broader during their school days. Photography is really one of those professions for which no specific diploma or degree is necessary to reach the top. You basically just go out and do it – but with everything you’ve got to offer – and full gas! Practice, complete self-assignments and establish beneficial contacts with editors and others that have gone before you, in order to place yourself where you want to be in photography.

“David Bathgate is spreading his knowledge & experiences without borders. Thanks to him for giving us time & help us by sharing immense knowledge on different topics. You can view more of David’s work on his personal website: www.davidbathgate.com

In addition, he regularly conducts workshops and seminars on photography, photojournalism and visual communication in places like Dharamshala, India and Ladakh and at institutions like, Pathshala – South Asian Institute of Photography, in Dhaka, Bangladesh, AINA in Kabul, Afghanistan, the Foundry Photojournalism Workshops and interactively-online–at www.thecompellingimage.com He is the founder of The compelling image. I am fortunate by getting him as my mentor and learning work from him closely – Gmb Akash“

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