Thiruvananthapuram: Photographer Sivan, who was always measured in his praise for his children, once gave the biggest compliment to Santosh Sivan.
He told one of his friends that among the pictures of his wife Chandramani, it was Santosh’s photos that stood apart.
There was something about it.
“I felt so happy to hear it from him, our mother had passed away and he was looking at old pictures when he said this,” says Santosh.
Sivan was always a family man, moving around with his wife and children in their Volkswagen car.
He took the children to places where he went for assignments and would tell them about culture and society.
Even with the pictures on calendars, he would trigger the imagination of his children.
When he began his studio at Statue, he wanted someone among his sons to help him.
“Achan was my Guru.
When I was a student, he would send me to take group photos in Women’s college and other colleges.
We would actively discuss technological innovations.
He was so updated about it,” says Santosh Sivan.
Decades ago, the city, its people and the images shaped the destiny of Sivan.
An old Veltaflex camera dotted with some holes and a manual for exposure; a young Sivan who desperately wanted to be a photographer couldn’t make much out of the gift he had received from one of the houses where he would go and sing, regularly at noon.
The family was so impressed that they suggested he became a musician.
Sivan barely showed any interest, although he had imbibed skills in painting and music from his mother, Bhavani Amma.
It was then that the family head gifted him a camera.
Sivan fiddled with it for days, taped the holes and knew that it was ready for use.
The sole guide to him in photography was an article in which he read that photography came naturally to painters.
He knew painting, so photography should come, the callow mind assured him.
There was another challenge for him.
To take eight pictures in a single exposure, and he needed a film roll.
They placed bets on ball badminton game, he won the bet and he soon bought a roll of film from a studio opposite the Secretariat.
An untrained, ignorant, but passionate guy was ready for his first photograph.
A group of Tamil people living in front of a theatre piqued his interest.
They were kind to the photographer.
Some of them would come to his house, where his mother would feed them and give them oil and a soap bar.
In gratitude, they didn’t mind him focusing on their lives.
The photos came out good, he was thrilled.
He rushed to a daily where he was told that the photographs were too brilliant to be published.
They handed him a cheque of Rs 90 and a piece of priceless advice; “never ever think of doing another job”.
Sivan followed the advice verbatim.
“He was born to be a photographer.
There was always something special about his photographs.
We would easily know it was Sivan’s photo.
While shooting for Chemmen, we would never know when he would be taking pictures.
Such was his craft.
He had so much depth of knowledge in cinema and photography,” says actor Madhu.
Sparse in praise, he once said son’s pic stood apart
