The morning was balmy and weather humid. Not good for a man like me. I sat up unwillingly and looked out of the window, outside which I could see an abyss of clumsily built, closely spaced houses, which in no way reflected prosperity. I was in a building odd for the setting, yet a building that perfectly fit here on the basis of ideology. It was an inn set in Old Delhi, where I stayed on my own for a small project, for some reasons.
I looked at the clock and realized I had woken up before time. I decided to get dressed and explore the area. The area was too much for my SLR’s lens to digest. There was so much to see, so much to understand, so much to tell. I had to be quick to capture things I wouldn’t want to miss. As a photographer, I have always been very particular about capturing those special moments which I would want to look at again, and again.
My assignment was to start in an hour and half near the Jama Masjid. I had to hurry. But the glimmering paisleys, the peculiarly red and pink roses painted on the pistachio green walls, the colourful shop of cassettes, the heterogeneity of the crowd was something I wouldn’t want to miss. My bagpack was weighing heavy on my back, and within three hours, I would be on my flight to Slovenia for another assignment.
I really didn’t want to miss any of it.
I was about to click a girl in a white hijab in front of a red, poorly plastered walls. She was amazingly beautiful, and the tropical sunlight that fell upon her face was truly golden. The red wall provided a startling contrast. Suddenly, she walked off.
My shot was ruined. She stopped a few yards ahead into a narrow street. The moment I lifted my camera, a child right beside me started to wail loudly. I jerked, and looked around. A man on a bike had hit a pedestrian. I couldn’t have imagined the intensity of the crowd that had loomed around the spot of accident, making it impossible for me to do anything. I made my way out of the crowd, only to see the girl run off into the narrow street.
I sighed, for it hurts when you lose something that’s momentary yet something you want. That sight was heavenly. I smiled, because it was imprinted on my mind, like a few other, yet the most beautiful things that I had missed out. Things that I really wanted to capture, and take home with me. Well, that’s the only thing that makes these priceless moments special.
I caught an auto-rickshaw to take me to the Masjid.
With a momentary burden I felt in my wind pipe, I rejoiced the value of missing out.
BY Kurosaki (Curosaque)