The Woman in the Black Anarkali - Pratibha Gihar
There are photographs that feel less like images and more like moments of recognition.
A small doorway into a quieter version of ourselves — one we don’t often meet in the rush of daily life.
This portrait began as nothing more than a self-photography experiment.
A simple idea: a black backdrop, a black printed Anarkali suit, a traditional nath, and a moment alone with the camera.
But the moment the shutter clicked, something changed.
Because self-portraiture is never really just a picture.
It is an encounter.
A conversation with yourself, without noise, without performance, without the world watching.
In the frame, the woman stands in her black Anarkali — elegant, grounded, wrapped in soft fabric that nods to her roots. The outfit isn’t elaborate, yet it holds a certain story in its prints and folds, a gentle echo of tradition blending with modern self-expression.
Her posture is assured but calm. Her gaze — steady, aware, almost in dialogue with the lens she herself set up.
That is the magic of self-photography:
you are both the creator and the subject, the observer and the observed.
In the second portrait, captured in striking black and white, the mood shifts inward.
It becomes intimate.
Still.
Almost meditative.
The woman isn’t posing — she’s pausing. Her eyes gazed as if listening to an old thought.
This is the moment self-portraits often reveal: the part of us the world never sees. The softness beneath strength. The quiet beneath confidence.
People often mistake self-photography for vanity.
But those who’ve ever stood alone in a room with a tripod and a timer know the truth:
It is not vanity.
It is witnessing.
It is belonging to yourself for a moment.
It is creating a story of who you are — not for the world, but for your future self.
For me, the journey began early.
At thirteen, with my first camera — a Yashica — the kind that used Kodak negatives you couldn’t afford to waste. Every shot mattered. Every frame meant something. And maybe that’s why even today, despite digital abundance, I treat every self-portrait like a small ritual.
A way of slowing down.
A way of remembering.
A way of documenting the person I am becoming.
Because someday, years from now, when time has softened the edges of memory, these photographs will remain. They will hold the shape of who I used to be, the thoughts I carried, the strength I didn’t always see in myself.
Self-photography has taught me this:
The camera doesn’t just capture your face.
It captures your becoming.
Your quiet transformations.
Your stories — held gently in light and shadow.
And sometimes, all it takes is a black Anarkali, a piece of old jewellery, and the courage to stand in front of your own lens —
to rediscover a piece of yourself you didn’t know you were missing.
Happy Clicking 😊
- Pratibha Gihar/ Freedompratzz
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