पोस्ट मराठीमध्ये वाचण्यासाठी इथे उपलब्ध आहे.
Long before the advent of photography, master artists captured the likenesses of prominent and wealthy figures on canvas. Art in those times was not merely a form of creative expression; it was a complex technology. The precise application of skill, technique, and custom made pigments demanded heavy compensation, an expense ordinary people simply could not afford. Consequently, portraiture remained a luxury reserved for the elite. Before these advancements, a person's only way to see themselves was by looking at their reflection in still water. Even then, their features could never be preserved. If someone wanted to remember a loved one, they had to rely entirely on the theater of their imagination, for there were no physical photographs or drawings to look back on.
When camera technology first arrived in India, it was met with deep superstition. People feared that capturing one’s image would shorten their lifespan. Over time, this misconception faded, and having family portraits taken, either by visiting a studio or inviting a photographer home, became a matter of great pride. Initially, these photographs were black and white. Yet, even in the age of vibrant colors, those monochrome images retain a unique, nostalgic charm. Eventually, color photography emerged, and cameras became affordable for the common man. Carrying a camera and rolls of film during festivals or family vacations was looked upon as a symbol of prestige and a grand hobby.
Those were the days of anticipation. If the film roll was not loaded correctly into the camera slot, the entire reel would go to waste, instantly turning eager excitement into deep disappointment. Each film roll eventually materialized into a physical photo album at home. These albums were treasured assets, taken out periodically to relive fond memories and spark old stories. Some households possessed vast treasures of such albums. In my early childhood, our family did not own a camera; we had only a handful of photos taken at professional studios. I remember feeling a pang of envy during my school days when I saw friends who had massive albums filled with countless pictures of their childhood. To this day, most of us still carefully preserve those old photo albums.
The true democratization of photography happened with the arrival of the mobile phone. Even when mobile cameras were limited to a mere 2 to 4 megapixels, standalone cameras still held a superior charm. Today, however, smartphone cameras have become so advanced that the need for dedicated lenses has dwindled. We now have access to thousands of editing options both while clicking a picture and after it is taken. Furthermore, landscapes that once required the refined vision of a master painter or a skilled photographer can now be generated instantly by AI.
Yet, when something becomes overly abundant, its value often diminishes, and people begin to lose interest. Photography faces a similar crisis today. While the world is full of self-indulgent people who constantly click photos, selfies, and reels everywhere they go, they often miss out on the actual experience. In the past, visiting a beautiful destination sparked an immediate desire to capture it. Today, social media is so saturated with identical images of famous landmarks taken from the exact same angles that one wonders What unique value will my photograph add?
Consequently, relationship of many people with travel and nature has shifted. We used to take pictures to relive the beauty of a place later. Now, a new sentiment is taking root, a desire to store the beauty of the world directly in our eyes and hearts rather than through a digital screen. After all, if we ever feel the need to look at those views again, thousands of identical photos are readily available on the internet.
(Translated from Marathi with the help of AI)