Indian photography didn’t just fall behind. It was abandoned.
The scene is full of talent, full of hunger—but starved of mentorship. The old guard closed the door behind them. No schools, no workshops, no labs, no real systems of support. Just a tight circle of gatekeepers. No one built structures. No one created ladders. Just individual glory, recycled endlessly.
Look at Bangladesh. Look at Shahidul Alam. He didn’t just make images—he built institutions. Pathshala. Drik. Chobi Mela. He trained generations, gave them tools, showed them how to fight. The result? A robust, politically sharp, visually confident photographic movement.
Nepal has done more with far less. Active networks. A clear sense of regional identity. Real risks being taken. Real platforms being created. Meanwhile, India—with all its funding, its galleries, its global access—has failed to create a legacy. That’s not a lack of talent. That’s a failure of leadership.
What we have instead are lone wolves. Some brilliant, yes—but disconnected. Unaccountable. No one to question them, no one to carry the baton. Just repeat exhibitions, inflated prices, and the myth of “greatness” shielding them from critique.
1.4 billion people. And barely a handful of names on the global photography map. That’s not a shortage of voices. That’s neglect.
We need mentors who aren’t threatened by the next generation. Who teach, not gatekeep. Who build spaces, not just careers. Until then, Indian photography will remain stuck—rootless, fragmented, endlessly restarting.