When 29-year-old Sehar Qazi, who hails from downtown Srinagar, completed her postgraduate degree in journalism in 2014, she was told that she should now look for a job in a school or bank. These jobs give financial security and are ‘safe’ for a young woman.
But Qazi had other plans. “I was determined to have a career in journalism and photojournalism,” she says. Her first assignment at a local publication was to report on the aftermath of the devastating 2014 floods in Kashmir. Two years later she got a job with a web-based publication in Delhi, and was deeply inspired by the works of photojournalists from around the world. She then began working on her own photo essays on the lives of Rohingya refugees.
Against all odds
But in Kashmir, going out on assignment was never easy. Qazi’s mother would call her five times a day and insist she return before dark. “Relatives would come home and tell me I should quit journalism as soon as possible,” she says. Such unsolicited advice made life difficult, but did not deter Qazi. “My teachers and friends supported me and advised me to stay focused and work hard.”
Last summer, she found herself on an assignment in Jantar Mantar in New Delhi, where farmers from Tamil Nadu were protesting. She was drenched in sweat, sitting by the side of a road, but focused on her viewfinder. “I happened to look around and found a large number of people staring at me,” she says. “It was strange. But all I could do was ignore them and continue my work.”
Until a few years ago, it was not easy for a woman in Kashmir to think of a career in photojournalism. But this is beginning to change now. Young and talented women with cameras are carving out a space for themselves, breaking stereotypes and defying social norms.
A different perspective
People react in different ways when they see a boy with a camera as opposed to a girl, as Qazi points out. “Things have changed over the years. More girls are being encouraged to take up the camera. People are slowly realising that these women are telling many stories of Kashmir to the world.”
Qazi, who now works for a newspaper in New Delhi, has been following the lives of Rohingya refugees in the capital. Being a woman, Qazi believes, helps present a different perspective. “I feel that people, especially women, confide in us more easily. We can capture their stories better, not just in terms of conflict, but also the social context.”
Masrat Zahra, 24, is a budding photojournalist from Hawal, Srinagar. Her brother brought her a camera when she was still in college, and that sparked her interest.“I was born and brought up in conflict and I want to tell the stories of my people and of their oppression,” says Zahra, who is doing a journalism course in Kashmir’s Central University. She likes to talk to her subjects before the shoot. “It gives me a sense of their lives and it builds trust,” she says.
Last year,she travelled to Kashmir’s restive Pulwama district to meet the wife of Firdous Ahmed Khan, a labourer who had died after government forces opened fire on protesters. This was her first such assignment and she was a little apprehensive about how people would respond to a woman with a camera. But Khan’s wife was welcoming despite her grief. “She told me about her pain. I wanted to cry.” But she controlled her emotions and completed the shoot. Zahra's work has appeared in several publications and photo agencies, and in the online editions of The Washington Post , The Sun , The News Arab , The World Weekly .
Zahra wishes more young women in Kashmir would choose photography to tell their land’s stories, stories that would otherwise remain untold.
Two years ago, when Sanna Irshad Mattoo, 24, from Saida Kadal, Srinagar, began her Master’s course in journalism, she knew it was photojournalism for her. “There was no other medium that let me express myself as well as photography. Its visual narration and originality has a power I can’t describe in words.”
Not a common sight
The simple act of seeking permission and taking pictures makes people feel respected and heard, says Mattoo, now a freelance documentary photographer. With more than 2,000 followers on Instagram, Mattoo has had her pictures published in Indian and international publications.
As part of a university project, she directed a documentary called The Lake Town , which was shortlisted earlier this year for screening at the Mumbai International Film Festival 2018.
When she goes out to capture everyday life, protests, encounters and funerals, Mattoo says she also notices a growing distrust among people. “Given the way Kashmir has been portrayed over the years, there is anger towards all journalists,” she says. Thankfully, though, people have been largely supportive. “They cooperate although they are a little surprised to see a woman photojournalist; it’s not a common sight.” Being a woman, she says, makes access easier. “You can get inside a home more easily than a man, but you have more responsibility towards making the most of that access.”
But work opportunities are limited in Kashmir, more so for women photojournalists. The lack of professionalism, job security and low wages are holding them back. “Each year we have many female graduates in journalism but they struggle to find platforms,” says Mattoo. “ Opportunities in Kashmir are few. Even well-known media houses are not hiring,” she adds.
Mattoo believes it’s only work that counts in the end, and not gender. “Challenges are faced by both men and women in the field. Sometimes it works for me, sometimes it works for them.”
The writer is based in Srinagar
