When there is lightning in the sky, kids back in my part of the world say that it is taking a photograph of the earth beneath.
Most people love to have their photographs clicked. I wonder if it is a psychological phenomenon where one finds himself better looking in the pictures than in reality.
We turn our backs to hill stations, monuments, statues and paintings and show all our teeth. Once a moment is frozen in a snap and if it is a happy one or maybe the people in it sometimes pretend to be, then the photo stands testimony to the perception that people in it are eternally happy, no matter what the truth is.
We have started worrying more about the megapixels in our mobile phones.
We treasure our childhood photo albums for our unborn kids to see.
A minority of us prefer to squeeze our eyeballs into the viewfinder than to make funny poses in front of the lenses. I am one of them.
***
I was in my 6th grade when my father bought the Yashica-automatic. It was my first camera.
It was a matter of pride in those days to own an automatic camera. I took it out for my first independent photo shoot at the thief’s cave. I was too naive or too lucky that there weren’t any girlfriends by then, and my boy gang of five was forced to be the “subjects”.
The thief’s cave was on the top of a little rocky hill that superimposed its grand reflection over a muddy lake. It was no regular tourist spot. The place was known only to the local shepherds and our gang. Every weekend we trekked there on our bicycles. It was a steep and risky downhill ride. We dwelt in the cave until it was dark
The photo shoot was originally supposed to focus on a group of boys trekking the rocky hills. However, I could capture some historical evidence to prove that man evolved from the monkey. The most significant breakthrough since Darwin set foot on the Galapagos! One of my friends literally swung in a tree for a pose. With no idea of light and focus, I shot the pictures randomly. A little boy I was then, who didn’t have any idea about the camera as a gadget or photography as an art.
Though the camera could automatically load for the next shot, one had to manually rewind the roll once it is used entirely. Since I didn’t have the expertise of such ingenious labour, I sought the wise counsel of my dear friend. We opened the cover in broad daylight and rewind the entire roll. My friend proudly announced, “this is how you should rewind!”. I nodded my head like a sincere scribe.
***
The guy at the photo studio literally laughed at my father when he went to collect the prints. The roll was utterly wiped out. It was a total white. I had learnt my first photography lesson.
One might wonder why I am referring to the thief’s cave in the past tense. Few months after the disastrous photo shoot, the thief’s cave was taken over by the government for a social project. They mowed the valley, ripped the cave and the hill.
***
I bought a Canon DSLR recently.
Thankfully, now there are no film rolls! But there is no thief’s cave anymore.
The sheep that grazed the valley are all gone. The shepherds are now working in leather processing factories or cotton mills.
Our bicycles are rusted.
I am chasing the light with my new DSLR.
