Salman Rashid

In the beginning, back in the early 1980s, when I went travelling to, say, Jhangara the little village near Sehwan through which so many Victorian travellers had passed whose descriptions I had read, I was hardly disappointed. In fact, places like Bahawalpur, Sadiqabad, Lasbela, Khuzdar, etc had not changed at all in the hundred years before me. I can say the same for Gandava in Balochistan which I visited for the first time in 2002. Other than the motor vehicles in the bazaar, nothing had changed from 1882.

Gwadar and to a lesser degree Turbat in 1987 were picture perfect places. And Punjgur in 1999, oh, what a beautiful little town and what great climate. I must not forget to mention the grapes and dates of this magical garden city.

Then I saw the change coming over. Some of it wrought by the petro-dollars of the 1980s. Old houses were pulled down and replaced with new-fangled ones with bathroom tile facades. It was very sad. And the speed of this change was staggering. Because I saw all this happening, I was in a way expecting the change when I did not find what I had read in early accounts. I have come to expect and accept change and my vision is no longer infused by what I have read.

However, to be truthful, I cannot really call myself a photographer. I am only a person photographically documenting the history, geography and culture of this land. I photograph everything that interests me. This can be buildings and their architecture, landscapes and people. There is really no artistry in my lensmanship; it's all fairly straightforward shooting.