A Journey of Growth, Resilience, and Creativity
Rejection
"Hope is the lens through which we transform setbacks into stepping stones, and rejection into a canvas for reinvention. In the darkest hours, it’s the quiet whisper urging you to keep shooting, because the best shot is often the one you take after the storm."
Rejection in photography, much like in life, is an inevitable part of the journey. But it is also an essential one. Whether you’re a beginner or a seasoned professional, rejection has a way of finding us—whether from clients who dismiss our work, award panels that pass us by, or the most devastating form of rejection: self-doubt. The real question is not how to avoid rejection, but how to embrace it, learn from it, and ultimately let it guide you to new creative heights.
Photography, for me, has never been about recognition or fame. Growing up in a society that often dismissed the pursuit of art as a hobby, I struggled with whether to continue chasing this dream. The expectations of life, from a demanding career in banking to the responsibilities of being the sole provider for my family, often pulled me away from the lens. Yet, no matter how far I strayed, photography always found a way to pull me back. It became my lifeline, grounding me in the truth that this art form was more than just a pursuit—it was a reflection of my deepest values: truth, resilience, and compassion.
During my Varanasi project, these truths were put to the test. Varanasi, the city where life and death coexist in vivid, unapologetic honesty, forced me to confront my own doubts. Balancing my professional obligations with my passion for photography seemed impossible. There were moments I questioned whether I even had the right to pursue this passion. But as I walked through the streets, camera in hand, I was reminded that photography wasn’t about seeking validation—it was about connection. The images I captured weren’t just for an audience; they were for me, a way to reconnect with the stories that mattered most.
Rejection and creative blocks often go hand-in-hand. It’s easy to feel, especially after a harsh critique or a failed project, that there’s nothing left to shoot, that your creative well has dried up. But the truth is, there is always something to photograph—it’s simply about how we choose to see. When I feel uninspired, I return to the question: “What makes a great photograph?” For me, it’s not about perfect lighting or technical precision—it’s about emotion, texture, light, shadow, and the story an image tells. Photography is not about capturing the extraordinary; it’s about seeing the ordinary with fresh eyes.
In moments of creative drought, I create still life’s out of everyday objects, experimenting with light and shadow. These simple exercises remind me of the magic that exists in the most mundane settings, and that photography is less about the subject and more about the perspective through which we view it.
And rejection? It can be a powerful creative fuel. Yes, it hurts when someone dismisses your work or when an award you thought you deserved goes to someone else. But once the sting subsides, there’s often a renewed sense of purpose, a drive to push your boundaries further. I’ve had clients reject images that I thought were perfect, only for me to later realize that the rejection opened up new avenues for creativity. Instead of letting the rejection be the final word, I asked myself, “What can I learn from this?” Over time, I came to see rejection not as a roadblock, but as a tool—a way to refine my skills and broaden my creative horizons.
One of the most powerful lessons rejection has taught me is the importance of self-reflection. In those moments when no one else seems to believe in your vision, you have to be both your own harshest critic and your biggest supporter. Rejection forces you to pause and look at your work with fresh eyes, asking yourself: Where can I grow? What am I overlooking? This process fosters self-criticism and, more importantly, self-discovery—two essential ingredients in any artist's growth.
The first time I submitted my Varanasi project for an award and didn’t even make the shortlist, I was devastated. I had poured my heart and soul into that work, yet it wasn’t enough. But instead of giving up, I found new ways to tell the story I was so desperate to share. That rejection forced me to experiment with different techniques and pushed me out of my comfort zone—ultimately leading to more powerful, resonant images.
As my mother always said, “There is no growth without pain.” Rejection can be painful—it can trigger frustration, anger, or feelings of inadequacy—but these emotions are often catalysts for change. If everything we create is met with praise, where’s the opportunity for growth? It’s in the rejection that we find the grit to improve, the courage to keep creating.
On a philosophical level, I’ve found solace in Stoicism. The Stoics remind us that while we can’t control how others react to our work, we can control our response. Rejection is external—it’s out of our hands. But how we choose to move forward? That’s entirely within our control. Will you let it stop you, or will you use it to fuel your next creative leap?
When faced with rejection—whether from others or from yourself—step back, breathe, and don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. Sometimes, the harshest critiques can bring the greatest clarity. Don’t reject rejection. Instead, embrace it, learn from it, and let it move you closer to your next success.
In the end, the most important thing I’ve learned is this: keep creating. When the inspiration isn’t there, when rejection threatens to derail you—pick up your camera anyway. Take photographs of the small, the ordinary, the things you overlook every day. Let the act of creation itself be your path out of the darkness. As Ansel Adams famously said, “You don’t take a photograph, you make it.”
Photography is not about waiting for the perfect moment—it’s about creating the moment, about finding beauty in what’s right in front of you.
Each rejection is a gift in disguise, shaping not only your craft but also your character. Photography, at its core, is about transformation—of light, of moments, and yes, even of setbacks into successes.
"Every “no” is just a brushstroke on the canvas of your artistic journey, guiding you toward your masterpiece."