Monochrome Magic : A Black & White Photo Walk in Chandni Chowk

There are two times to visit Chandni Chowk - never and today at 7:00 AM.  Armed with two cameras, a stubborn will and the ironclad rule -  thou shalt only shoot in black and white. 

“Colour is everything, black and white is more,” says Ansal Adam, probably sipping his coffee somewhere up there and watching over this photo walk and  quietly judging our composition and our aperture choices.  

The E-Rickshaw Waltz

The adventure kicked off with a ride in an e-rickshaw - a marvel of modern chaos engineering, seemingly ungoverned by the laws of physics or personal space. We jolted over every pothole as if competing in a nationwide concussion contest, with the driver swerving past market carts, goats, scooters and what I can only assume was a mobile sari boutique on wheels.

Chandni Chowk awakens not gently but with full percussion - the honking, hawking and occasional bellowing of a scooty horn, threading through a sea of shoppers. Then there is the air which is spiced with dust, noise and the relentless optimism of traders opening their shuttered shops while stray dogs hold sleepy committee meetings near the pavement and the white bearded senior citizens sitting on a plastic chair sipping tea or reading a newspaper. 

Every frame was an exercise in dodge and burn, literally and photographically. In the churn of humanity - amidst the explosion of the spice bazaar, where sacks of spices lay like the earth’s own pixels of masala - I hunted for contrast, geometry and that delicious interplay of light and shadow.

“To See in Colour is a Delight, to See in Black & White is a Revelation.”  

— Ansal Adam (Who Would've Liked This Rule)

There’s something rebellious about draining colour from a scene best known for it. “The negative is the equivalent of the composer’s score and the print the performance,” Adam reminds us - so with every shutter click, I composed not with hues but with hope.  

Using the Rule of Thirds, I positioned the excited vendors at golden intersections, letting leading lines pull the viewer’s eye through crowded alleys. High contrast was king. I exposed for highlights, knowing that deep shadows would only make the sunlit faces pop with all the drama of an old Bollywood villain’s monologue.

The spice bazaar was a living grayscale jigsaw. Heaps of spice sacs being loaded into vans and trucks ready to be transported so that they finally reaches our kitchen and from there into our stomach.  Against faded shop signs, weathered hands weighed goods and sorted out bags and cash registers in slants of morning light. Remember, in B&W, texture replaces colour, so wrinkled faces and cracked pavements tell the story.

Winding Down with Chole Bhature at Giani’s

After several hours - and cursing all the tangled electrical wires, dust and dont click warnings - we stumbled into Giani’s. For a photographer, few things match the joy of Chole Bhature smell.  The deep - fried, golden bhature with a slice of pickle and lassi - just wow. 

“You don’t take a photograph, you make it - and then eat your breakfast,” as Ansal Adam might have never said.

The drive back was mercifully uneventful, except for an unplanned halt at Kokoy in Noida. There, the Paragon Pour Over was as dramatic in aroma as any photograph in contrast. Sometimes, after a morning in monochrome, even a cup of black coffee feels like… home.

Seeing the world in black and white strips away distraction, forcing the eye to shape, mood and mischievous emotions.  So, whether it’s a cackling shopkeeper or a sunbeam slicing through spice-laden air, sometimes life really is better in shades of grey.

So, guys and gals, I started the day at 4 am and here I am finishing this blog. The whole process of getting up, packing, travelling, talking, clicking, learning from mentors, experiencing an organised madness, cooling down with Bhature and Coffee is a meditative trans for me. Perhaps Rupert Spira would call it - being aware of being aware. 

Next photo walk - Colour, at least for the Chole Bhature. Adam, forgive me.