How did you come in contact with Homai Vyarawalla? And when you did, what was it that struck you about her?
In 1997, I was working on a film on women photographers, as there was no evidence of women who operated the camera. At the time, I realised that we knew very little about the past. In fact, when I did look into Homai’s body of work, it was a revelation. While speaking of her to my aunt and her parents’ generation, I learnt that she had carved a niche in their popular memory that had somehow slipped away. By then, she was already in her 80s. She had given up photography in 1970 and had settled down in Baroda.u00a0I was fascinated by her life. When I began work on her biography (Camera Chronicles of Homai Vyarawalla, 2006), I would travel down to Baroda to spend time and document her life and work. She was an incredible woman; self sufficient and independent even in her old age. She drove a car (in her younger days, a bicycle), was brilliant at working with her hands — be it carpentry (including making furniture), gardening, flower arrangements and plumbing; she would even fix her slippers. Homai had also crafted a lovely nameplate (made from glass bangles) for her gate.u00a0Looking back at this exceptional woman, she was truly a pioneer of her times, being India’s only woman photographer. Secondly, she took incredible photographs at a time when candid photographs were greatly valued; we now recognise these frames as iconic moments in Indian history. She will always be admired as a photographer and a self-reliant woman.

Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru at Palam Airport, Delhi, 1954.u00a0Pics courtesy/ Camera Chronicles of Homai Vyarawalla. Mapin/Parzor 2006