Flashlight Man of India | Mahesh Lonkar | Flashlight Collector | Flashlight Wala скачать в хорошем качестве

Flashlight Man of India | Mahesh Lonkar | Flashlight Collector | Flashlight Wala

Hi, I’m Mahesh Lonkar. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by flashlights. Over the years, I’ve collected more than a thousand, and my dream is to open India’s first flashlight museum. I was probably in the 4th grade when I saw my first favorite flashlight in a store near my school. It cost ₹55 back then (around 1995-96) — a fortune for a child like me. Saving my pocket money for a month would only get me ₹10 to ₹15. Desperate to make the flashlight mine, I took ₹1 or ₹2 from my family’s grocery shop, combined it with my savings, and finally bought it. I don’t know why, but I believed only doctors carried flashlights — and now I had one. That flashlight became my prized possession. I carried it everywhere — attaching it to my pants after school, then slipping it into my bag as I neared home. Even while sleeping, I kept it close. My little sister knew about my secret, and soon the whole family did too, though I pretended they didn’t. One vivid memory stands out. During a holiday at my maternal uncle’s village, there was a theft in a neighboring house. The police arrived, and the young boys in the village knew I had a flashlight. They insisted I lend it to the police, but I refused. In the end, they took me along with the flashlight — and I held onto it tightly the whole time! Even now, the thought of that stubborn little boy makes me laugh. My obsession only grew. I’d pass by large goods containers on the road and marvel at the stop lights and indicators. I’d even break the glass covering to collect the tiny bulbs inside. Road reflectors fascinated me too. I once tried to pry one off, convinced there was a secret bulb inside that lit up when car lights hit it. I never did manage to take one home, though! Life moved on. I finished school, went to college, got a job, got married — but my love for flashlights never faded. As I grew older, I began collecting torches more seriously. Each one had its own uniqueness, and even my friends started bringing me interesting pieces whenever we met. One morning, I went to Sinhgad Fort for bird photography and met an elderly bird researcher. I gave him a lift on my bike, and as we spent time together, he noticed my fascination with torches. He started asking me questions I’d never thought about before: “Do you have any old torches? Do you know the history of torches — who made the first one and when?” Their curiosity sparked something inside me. Until then, I had only been collecting modern flashlights. But that conversation set me on a new path — the pursuit of vintage flashlights. They warned me it wouldn’t be easy. Old torches are rare and expensive, and you won’t find them online. But their words only fueled my passion. Now, my collection spans decades, each flashlight holding a story of its own. I don’t know what draws me to these little beacons of light. Maybe it’s the sense of wonder I felt as a child, or perhaps it’s the thrill of the hunt. Whatever it is, flashlights have become a part of who I am. I often wonder where this path will lead. Maybe one day, I’ll open that museum and share my collection with the world. For now, I’ll keep searching, collecting, and shining my light on the history of these remarkable tools. And if you ever need a flashlight — well, you know who to call. I don’t know what connection I have with these yellow-colored lights or flashlights, but they give me a different kind of satisfaction. Someone once said, “What you’ve explored will be needed someday; from that, something else will happen.” I don’t know what lies ahead, nor do I have any expectations. But I love this journey — finding these flashlights keeps me engaged. If you ever meet me, anywhere in the world, just ask, “Show me a flashlight.” You’ll definitely find one with me. Special Thank You : Ministry of Culture, Government of India Video Creation: Pranav Dev | VIZYUG | https://vizyug.com/ Mukund Parkhe