A photo

This post won a runner up prize - a surprise goodie bag.

The clock keeps ticking. The sun rises and sets. The stars twinkle. The river flows and the winds blow. Amidst this perfect order with a tinge of chaos, life moves on. In the process, a memorable event occurs every second of our lives. Some of these moments bring a smile on the face while the remaining ones cast gloominess. They get stored in the inerasable memory - the brain - in the twists and curves. But alas! They can’t be accessed with ease and in most of the cases, it is forgotten that something was infact stored over there. Here comes the saviour - moments captured by the camera - some accidentally, some without the knowledge of the person and a majority with preparation. Whatever be the circumstances under which the snap was taken, every photo has a story to tell and a feeling to be expressed and in the process simulates emotions in the heart. Either tears roll down the cheeks or the face indulges in laughter.

Here is a photo of mine, a non-digital one that has captured my mortal self around fifteen years ago. The photo is associated with neither the happiest nor the most sorrowful moment of my life. Extreme emotions of any kind are not what the photo stands for. But still, the photo has a story to tell.

I would be shocked if people aren’t surprised at the fact that this was my first photo. Cameras as a necessity were rare then but photo studios weren’t. Infact that was the time when people wanted to capture every stage of their child on photographic paper. Nor was the case that my parents were alien to the world of photos and photo studios. My elder sister was first captured by the lens when she was just a few months old.

One fine day, God realised that I was ripped enough of a photographic life and made an aunt in my neighbourhood talk to my mother about taking me to a photo studio. I was draped in a T shirt which a cat has made its home. Squeaky little sandals adorned my feet and nail polish got the chance to be applied to my little finger nails. Then, the three of us set on a journey to the photo studio which wasn’t far away from my home. Impressed by the innocence on my face, the photographer placed a hat over my head to heighten the innocent looks to the peak.

Who knew at that time that I would be a future star of that studio! My photo was featured among others by the studio owner to showcase his talent in clicking photos. People who have been tricked into believing that the radiance of the photo was due to the photographer and not the person in the photo, earned that man a good deal of money. And today, that studio stands as the leading one in that locality. Of course I don’t claim for the success of that studio.

Back in those days, my parents also framed that photo and displayed it prominently in the house to show the guests how cute their child was.

Fifteen years later, I still visit that studio but only for passport sized photographs and I stand there wondering why that person hasn’t preserved the negative of that photo with himself instead of giving it to my mother!

Note : This is NOT a work of fiction.

This post is my entry for the 'One Picture From My Photo Album' contest conducted by My Yatra Diary and CupoNation.

Image Credits : The pencils sketches have been drawn by me taking help from these pictures : 1 2 3