Street photography on a budget: the etiquette I learned the hard way in Mumbai

I don't own a camera. I own a four-year-old phone with a slightly scratched lens and a battery that dies at 30%. This post is about everything I do with it on Sunday mornings in Mumbai, and, more importantly, about the mistakes I made so you don't.

I'm a NEET repeater, so my weeks are all tests and revision. Sundays I take a half-day off (my parents know, it's negotiated) and I walk. Fish market, tea stalls, the lanes behind the railway station, a flower market at dawn. I take photos. I've done this for about eight months now, and it's the one habit that feels completely mine.

The first lesson: you are not invisible

My first month, I tried to be sneaky. I held my phone at hip level, pretended to text, and snapped. I thought it was clever. It wasn't. People notice. A woman selling vegetables looked straight at me one morning, said nothing, and just stared until I put the phone down. I felt terrible. Not because I'd broken a law, but because I'd treated her like part of the scenery instead of a person.

That one stare changed my approach. Here's what I do now.

My etiquette rules (learned the hard way)

1. Ask, or at least be seen. If a person is the main subject of the photo, I ask. In Hindi, usually "Photo le sakta hoon?" with a smile and a small gesture. If someone says no, I say "theek hai, thank you" and move on. No arguing, no "just one." If I'm photographing a busy street where people are small parts of the scene, I don't ask everyone, but I don't hide either. I hold the phone openly at chest level.

2. Show them the photo. After taking it, I show the screen. Nine times out of ten, people smile or laugh. Sometimes they ask me to retake it because their eyes were closed. If they ask me to delete it, I delete it right there, in front of them. This is non-negotiable.

3. Kids need a parent's okay. I don't photograph children unless a parent or guardian is clearly nearby and says yes. There are too many ways it can go wrong, and it's simply not my call.

4. Don't photograph people in distress. An accident, someone crying, an argument. Your job in that moment isn't to capture it. It's to walk away or help. A photo isn't worth more than someone's worst moment.

5. Be extra careful at places of worship and during rituals. Check signs. Some places allow photos in the courtyard but not inside. At a funeral procession, I put the phone away. Full stop.

6. Know the restricted places. There are some places where photography is prohibited or restricted, such as certain government, defence, and security-related areas, and some stations or bridges have their own rules. In general, photographing in public places is okay in India, but the exceptions are real. I read the signs and when a guard says "no photo," I just comply and don't argue.

7. No flash, no shutter sound. At least no flash. A flash in someone's face is rude. (My phone's shutter sound is off, but not to be sneaky. It's so I don't startle people.)

8. Don't turn poverty into a show. This is the one I think about most. It's easy to take a "powerful" photo of someone struggling, post it, and collect likes. But the person in that photo didn't agree to be a symbol. If I wouldn't be comfortable explaining the photo to the person standing in it, I don't take it.

9. Say thank you. Always. Even if you didn't take a photo.

The best photo I ever took, and why I almost didn't

One Sunday, early, at the fish market. An older woman was cleaning pomfret on a wooden board, hands quick and sure. I stood nearby for about ten minutes, not shooting, just standing. She noticed me. I said, "Aap kaam bahut tez karte ho. Ek photo le lun?" She looked at me, looked at the fish, and then, to my surprise, called over a small girl, her granddaughter, and said "yeh bhi aayegi."

The frame: the woman's weathered hands on the board, the little girl's chin barely above the table, a single beam of sun coming through a gap in the roof. I took three photos. I showed her. She laughed and said "mere bal kharab hain" (my hair is a mess). I printed a copy at a small shop the next week and took it to her. She stuck it on the side of her stall.

That's the real reward of street photography for me. Not likes. It's the second visit, when someone recognises you.

Photography tips that actually matter on a phone

• Go early or late. Morning and evening light is softer and gives longer shadows. Midday sun makes everything flat and harsh.
• Find the stage, wait for the actor. Choose a spot with good light or an interesting background, a doorway, a streak of sun, a coloured wall. Then wait for someone to walk into the frame. This is much better than chasing people.
• Layers. A foreground, a middle, a background. Shoot through a window or past a hanging cloth to add depth.
• Tap to expose. On a phone, tap on the brightest part of the scene and slide exposure down slightly. Highlights are hard to rescue; shadows are easier.
• Walk the same route again. The third visit is always better than the first. You know the light, the rhythm, the people.

Final thought

Street photography taught me something that's useful way outside photography: people are not backdrops. When I started thinking of every frame as a small conversation, my photos got better and my Sundays got warmer. It's the only part of the week where nobody asks me about my marks.

If you start, start with one rule. Show them the photo. Everything else follows.