A lens to the soul: A tribute to the visionary writer M.T. Vasudevan Nair

I still remember the first time I met M.T. Vasudevan Nair in 1990, the then editor of Mathrubhumi periodicals, at his office during my college days. He was reading a book when I entered his room. He slowly raised his head, and his eyes scanned mine, a special observance I call ‘M.T. special’ (as if searching for something genuine and true). M.T. was widely known as a man of few words, but his gaze spoke volumes.

As a budding photographer and artist, I had always admired his work, the way he wove stories like moving visuals with real-life characters. While showing him a few of my photographs, he chose one for the Mathrubhumi Weekly cover page. It was a big dream for every creative person – writers, photographers, and illustration artists – to showcase their work in Mathrubhumi Weekly.

When I revealed my ‘hidden agenda’, he advised me to study at FTII Pune and immediately wrote a reference letter to the then-director, Shaji N Karun. After three years of pursuing admission to FTII, I returned to M.T. sir and requested a photographer’s job at Mathrubhumi. His immediate reply was not to travel in two boats with one aim. If I ventured into cinema, he advised against trying journalism, as both required deep involvement.

I insisted on getting a job. My main motive was to work under a legend for a few years before venturing into films. Though he did not say anything at that point, after two months, I was appointed the first photographer for the periodical. Later, I learned that he had requested the managing director, Veerendrakumar, to have me as his photographer.

It was a great experience working under M.T. sir. He was awarded the Jnanpith while I was working there, and I had the chance to accompany him to his native village, Koodallur, in Palakkad district. He introduced me to everyone as “my photographer.” Once, I had the opportunity for a solo photoshoot with the legendary communist leader E.M.S Namboodiripad when he visited Kozhikode.

I exposed three rolls of colour film, as I had found a calm and beautiful location with no disturbance. For a newspaper like Mathrubhumi, three rolls of film exposed by a beginner were considered lavish and expensive. I was asked to explain to the chief photographer why I had done so. The matter reached M.T. sir. He called me to his room and narrated a story: “A monkey got a typewriter and started playing with it, as if typing. After several attempts, it produced one word.” It was difficult to control my laughter, but M.T. sir advised me on how a photograph should become a rare piece by capturing a decisive moment.

Photographic memory

Later, he was convinced with the photos of EMS I had taken and appreciated me, saying, “very good photos.” All those photographs of EMS were used in Mathrubhumi publications multiple times. Working under M.T. sir for two years was like gaining 20 years of experience. He had encyclopaedic knowledge and a photographic memory that seemed to store every image he had seen.

He would often talk to me about the masters, their crafts, and how they worked. For me, he was a guru, advisor, protector, and more than that – like a father. What struck me most about him was his love for photographers, children, and the environment. He did not wear it on his sleeve, but it was there, hidden beneath the surface.

He had a unique way of seeing the world that we cannot find in others. He was selective about the company he kept, and I felt honoured to be among the few he had chosen to let into his inner circle. He neither suffered fools gladly nor had any patience for pretension. But if he deemed you worthy, he would open up, and you would be rewarded with a glimpse into his remarkable mind.

After several years, I left Mathrubhumi and worked for different organisations. It was my dream to have a creative studio space in Chennai, and M.T. sir blessed it. When I revealed my wish to M.T. sir, he immediately agreed to visit my Chennai home. It was like a dream come true, having my mentor bless my space.

In 2019, when he arrived at the Chennai airport, I was waiting outside to receive him. After spotting me from a distance, he raised his hand and wished me, keeping his hand raised until he reached me. This was a heart-melting experience with M.T. sir. I had never seen him so happy before, and he made a memorable speech at my studio gallery, recalling our first meeting 30 years ago.

M.T. sir released my 20 years of visual documentation Eye on the Marsh on Pallikkaranai marshlands, one of the India’s biggest marshes disappearing due to urbanisation, by handing over the book to Mr. Sashi Kumar, renowned journalist and chairman of Asian College of Journalism (ACJ) in the presence of eminent critic and photographer Sadanand Menon and famed artist Achuthan Koodallur.

As a photographer, I have been fortunate enough to work with him on several projects. Each time, I was struck by his attention to detail, passion for storytelling, and unwavering commitment to his art. He was a true visionary, a master.