Street photography can be loosely defined as capturing images in public spaces with or without the consent of the person(s) being photographed. It is sometimes also called candid photography.

In the past five years I have done street photography all over Karachi. Given that Karachi has been declared as one of the most dangerous cities of the world, I thought it would be interesting to share my stories of capturing candid images of a very complex but equally interesting city. Hopefully, these anecdotes would prompt other photographers to dust off their cameras and step out on the streets to a satisfying experience of street photography.

One of the most hair-raising experiences I had was in the course of photographing a dilapidated, but colorful old window of a run-down house. Just as I clicked the shutter, I saw two burqa clad ladies entering the house from a side street. I moved on but I had not walked more than five meters when I was confronted with half a dozen bearded gentlemen from our KP province who sternly demanded why I was taking pictures of the ladies. It was a very delicate situation, to put it mildly. I had to use all my charm and experience to convince them that it was just an ill-timed shot. My gray hair and a relatively advanced age helped my case, but I am not sure a younger man would have come away with all his limbs and camera intact.

The two questions I face routinely when shooting on the street are first, why are you taking pictures, and second, which TV channel or newspaper do you belong to? I answer with a smile and say that it is for my personal “shauq” (hobby) and let the matter rest. Some let it go at that but others are more skeptical. One cynical fruit vendor remarked, “He is from abroad. He wants to photograph the misery of Pakistan and then peddle it to the Americans!”

While a few are camera shy, many ask me to photograph them. I never say no. Sometimes, they ask if I could send it to them and I dutifully take down their email address or, more commonly a WhatsApp number. I once took some pictures of the women selling dry fruit outside Empress Market. They were perfectly comfortable as I did so. I then walked across to a photo processing shop and got many of the photographs printed. I will always cherish the shrieks of joy and gratitude of the women and their families when I gave them the photographs!

The greatest aggravations caused to me while taking pictures are by the “securty” folk. I was once stopped from taking pictures outside the Dolmen Mall in Clifton. When I explained to the guards that everyone is taking pictures inside and outside the mall with cell phones and my regular camera is no different, the logic completely failed them. They explained that terrorists could use the pictures to plan their attacks on the mall. My pleas that I am a hardcore anti-terrorist fell on deaf ears.

My worst encounters have, in fact, been security related. The first was at the Abdullah Shah Ghazi Shrine in Clifton. I was entering the shrine gate when I was stopped by a guard. “You cannot take a camera inside “. I repeated my practiced line that in that case they should not let anyone with a cell phone since most have a camera in them. “But you have a camera and cameras are not allowed,” came the illogical answer. I got very irritated and in a huff told him that I am going in and will see if he can stop me and promptly walked inside. This created a huge commotion in the “security establishment” and within a minute I was surrounded by half a dozen armed guards. I must have been a bad mood that day and instead of relenting, started shouting about the rights of a citizen etc.  A large crowd gathered to watch this spectacle. Then a man appeared from somewhere and calmly escorted me to a small office. He offered me a glass of cold water. I was so angry by that time that I could hardly speak. Given that I have a few implants (like any respectable man of my age) in my arteries, it was not a good situation to be in. He explained that he was the caretaker of the shrine, calmed me down and apologized for the behavior of the guards. He then took me personally around the shrine and told me to photograph whatever I wanted to. Thus I lived to photograph another day.

Another day, as I was returning from a photo session at Funland (next to the Shrine of Abdullah Shah Ghazi) and had stopped to take a picture of the Icon tower, a police mobile screeched to a halt beside me. Three armed policemen jumped out and surrounded me, demanding to know why I taking a picture of the building. I took the opportunity to give them a brief lecture on the importance of not encroaching on historic landmarks like the Jahangir Kothari Parade by building tall towers. I think this time my reasoning was understood and I walked away with my camera still on me.

I faced the same situation at Port Grand recently. This time I was told I could not take pictures in the food court facing the sea as it was a high security area due to the presence of ships. Being an engineer I could not help trying to reason that these days satellites can pin point the location of objects much smaller than ships. Of course I failed.

Often, when I am at a park I take pictures of children as I find them to be one of the few sources of charm and innocence. I buy them a balloon, a cup of tea, or pay for a ride on those colorful dune buggies at the sea view beach. Their smiles of joy at these little gifts are priceless.

Only once have I felt myself in serious physical danger while photographing. I was at the Seaview beach one early morning when a pack of dogs attacked me. Trying to run, my camera flew out of my hands and my glasses and cell phone landed somewhere in the sand. One particularly energetic fellow managed to get his teeth on my kurta and ripped it. I was prone on all fours when the dogs displayed remarkable civility and desisted from doing any further damage to me.

Hijrat Colony: Photography can be eye-opening but depressing.

One of the downsides of  street photography is that it can be depressing business. It took me a few days and a few disturbed nights to recover from the utter misery I saw at Hijrat Colony. I felt like a voyeur feasting on misery. When I saw a special child in a miserable condition in the colony I pointed the camera at her but could not press the shutter.

There are many moments of pure joy when interacting with the people I am photographing. Many have insisted that I have tea with them or have opened their hearts about their lives.

The author caught in a emotional moment at Seaview. (Photo by Arif Ali Khan)

I have made friends with the down and out of society like a lame beggar who plies his trade near South City hospital. Once when I told him he was looking sad, he explained with a sigh, “Your bahu has thrown me out of the house!” It took me a few seconds to understand that I was considered an honorary father to him.