क्षण | kshan | moment

Waiting room. For the first time, someone at the hospital objected to my presence here – something I anticipated might happen a lot earlier.

The aim of this project is to capture the realism of SCEH as honestly as possible – there are no staged shots, no one is asked to pose, smile, say ‘cheese’. Therefore, there is an aspect of the genre that is undoubtedly invasive. Of course, anyone who objects to having their picture taken, or being sketched, will be obliged. Some patients have noticed me doing so and moved away, despite my best efforts to remain discreet.

A man in his twenties approached me who was very upset, something I could not circumvent on this occasion given the language barrier. The only option was to ask Dr Umang to help explain my position here as an artist-in-residence and my involvement in SCEH’s communications under their instructions. The man remained upset and we assured him the photographs would not be used and deleted them under his watch. The young man explained he was accompanying a female patient who had been the victim of an acid attack following a neighbourhood dispute – of course he would be upset with me.

This episode, which I have been waiting for since January, is a situation I had prepared for but still managed to be disarmed by. Despite efforts to ensure I am acting ethically, respecting the patients’ dignity and operating with sensitivity within the remit of the hospital, my actions caused distress. Despite intentions, sketching and photography in a hospital setting will inherently remain a prickly area.

The images in Art of Sevā are not made for profit. Navigating the line between capturing vulnerability while respecting privacy is difficult, with such a discerning aspect of the method being ‘the moment’. It could be a fleeting and nuanced expression, or a millisecond of synchronised subjects. These moments arise from chaos and photography is able to immortalise them and give them meaning. In a world of TikTok and live-streams, I am working as sincerely as possible, without pushing a camera in front of patients’ faces with an accompanying flash gun. I hope the Dr Shroff’s staff and any patients reading will understand this.

But, although most people don’t notice and just get on with their world, some will even approach to admire and very few move away. And there will always understandably be looks of enquiry cast in my direction.