“Muna” was the word Raghu Rai – Ragwunkle to me – used to anyone he liked. Today, the man in whose every pore India breathed, and whose every picture was an overwhelming interpretation of that spirit, has passed away from us. All of us at Mona suddenly feel orphaned.
He was a close friend and colleague of Kishore Parekh’s parents. Together, along with his elder brother S Paul, they changed the face of photojournalism in India. For me, he was also a constant presence during my growing up years – a guest in our home and, later, the guiding light that led me into photography after my father died.
He once told me: “Each of us will have to step aside one day, so that new energies can come and flow…” Today he steps aside. But it is difficult to believe that any energy can replace his strength – his ability to understand life, to capture its essence in a way that only he can. Raghu Rai was, without a doubt, our last living legend of photography. This feels like the end of an era.
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Much will be said about his extraordinary body of work – his visual record of our times, his wonderful eye, his presence, his charisma. But to me, it was just ragwonkly. I will miss your bass, your warmth, your quiet divinity, and your baritone voice calling my name.
When you and Dad meet after so many years, I imagine there will be little conversation other than photography. Keep shooting wherever you are, while we stay here, holding on to your photos – and your familiar exclamation whenever you see a great photo: “Kya baat hai…”
