its a pleasant lighthearted story....

A Perfect Picture




It was raining very hard, just as I wanted it, the usual dirty long spread of concrete looked swabbed and almost new. The city of Mumbai looked fairly urbane through the stretch of Arabian Sea on which it hovered. I was standing on the Marine drive which well can be said as the most popularly famed landmark of Mumbai, with all young, old flocking to this place to get the real taste of the city. But today the usual swarms of crowds, the obliviously imposing chanawalas, the trinket-ers were not there, it suited me fine, if I have to have my work done, it had to be deserted and which gave a fine chance explore to my camera-eyed vision.

I began to work on my camera but the shots were a bit hazy, perhaps because of the heavy rainfall. I waited for the rain to dawdle down a bit…I had to get a good picture or it would be perfect opportunity for my boss to “hawk” me down. work at a photography magazine called “Moments”. The reason for me to get a perfect picture and my boss scaring me to it was the upcoming big event The Asian photography contest which was due this month. I wanted to win it. Hawk (my boss) warned me to win it. The cause for my haste was my ignorance of the event which left me with just few days.The rain began to drizzle down a bit…I could now get a few decent pictures. I focused my camera again and looked at the stretched grey road reaching out to the now foaming and raging sea and then, I saw her.

A lone figure standing at the edge with her wet dark blue dupatta and dark hair flapping in the wind with a little strain from the dampness as she stare out at the sea. I instantly clicked a picture more as a habit then as a compulsion. I was fascinated by that figure because it instantly bought to my mind the picture of Sarah in the novel ‘The French Lieutenant’s Woman’ by John Fowles of which I have lately buried myself with. So the comparisons were inevitable. Sarah too position herself at the end of a long sea wall, looking the picture of misery with a heartfelt story attached. Maybe I was making too much of a random occurrence, but my imaginative sense was fixated to weave out a story. And well she was standing at the edge looking like she is about to flung herself in the sea too (well that’s always the stereotyped assumption isn’t it?). I thought up hundred possible stories—jilted girlfriend or jilted wife, frustrated spinster or a jobless widow.


But to formulate my story I decided to get a better look at her. It started to rain heavily again and I walked stealthily towards her shielding myself with my camera. I clicked as I walked along; as I was near enough she heard the shutter sound of my camera and turned around. FLASH! In an instant I captured those eyes…which seem to burn like embers, when she realized my presence and what I had done; she made a wild grab at my camera, luckily my hold was strong or else the look in her eyes were enough to tell me that my precious canon would have been several feet under the sea. The angry pair of eyes flashed at me, I looked at the face it was the face of a young girl but her eyes made her more mature as if it has some unknown depth.

“How dare you click my picture” she screeched at me, I was taken aback at her accusation; true she again tried to snatch my camera. “Delete my picture now,” she commanded. “Whoa hold on don’t worry just give me your address I will mail it to you”. You have no right to click picture without their permission ,your random clicking might be fun for you but its intervening into someone’s privacy when someone is in so much pain...I am in so much pain…,” she added almost to herself with her long fiery sentence. “Look it’s just a picture of your eyes and nothing” I showed her the picture in my camera screen “No harm done and about you being in pain and having fun with it I had no idea” I said politely. She was mildly taken aback at my words as she realized what she said…. “Oh…I just…well it just came out of my mouth…it’s nothing..” she mumbled in a dejected manner. I was tempted to ask what her story was but with my one recent misdemeanor I didn’t want to commit another by poking my nose into her privacy, so I beat down my temptation and gave her a well considered philosophical response.

“Well see Life is just like a photo album, which is filled with all kinds of memories, ...memories that are painful, memories that are happy...but we place all those memories along side each other.. and when time passes the memories too become like the faded picture which is sometime difficult to discern”. She seemed confused at my philosophy so I tried to simplify. “We have to live along with our past, with its sorrows and joys so when one picture fades away a new always comes to fore.” That was the best I could do because I failed to explain anything without bringing in the metaphor of camera and pictures.. Sigh! May be that’s the result of spending too much time with lenses, flashes and knobs.

She looked thoughtful; her anger passed but replaced with sadness. “What if that present or past is too painful to forget?” she asked me sadly. I was seriously tempted now…what might have caused this young girl such anguish I decided to stall my question.. “Yes, some things are too painful to forget, but we should consider them as the old torn pictures preserved or thrown away but in both ways it’s a way of letting a new picture to fit in!” I replied to her question…. “So what is your…..” I had just begun when she gave me a look so loathing and turned and walked away from there. I stood there looking after her. I was miffed, so much for my philosophy and advice. “Hey!” I called after her but she didn’t turn back, just walked and walked out of my sight. I didn’t follow her I didn’t have the reason nor the intention to follow her, but it really did mystify me. I was still pondering over her when a cool breeze stirred my mind to my task that I had to complete .Shoot ! so much for my musing now the rain is almost gone expect for the clouds dispensing the last few drops and the crowds began to trickle back I had missed my perfect shot. I was angry with myself my day was wasted so are my chances to win the contest because the theme of the contest was ‘rain’…drat! I felt too dejected to take anymore pictures now…Ah! did I have to waste my time talking to that girl…how good it would have been if I had minded my own business. I reached my small dingy flat.. sheesh! another reason for me to win the contest so badly, the money was big if nothing my house would have been made fit to live in. I consoled myself, no good crying over the spilt chicken curry.

Later as I sat in front of my pc going through all my pictures to select the best three entries I was faced with difficulty as ever earlier due to variety of choices and now due to lack of it. I scanned through my pictures selecting, rejecting all…and finally I came to her picture and her eyes pierced me through the computer screen I do not know why am I making a fuss over her so much…just that when I smell the story I can’t resist myself, anyways now to select the picture. I saw her eyes and tear drops frozen at the corner of her eyes. I decided to select her pictures and leave the rest to the destiny.

The past few weeks were spent in impatience and anticipation….the result will be out in about one month and I didn’t have the courage to let my boss my select the pictures because , don’t think I could make them appreciative in his eyes.. still lets wait for the outcome…

The fated day arrived and I was up early to grab the newspaper (but in the back of my mind I knew if I had won I would have known earlier) still in great apprehension I scanned the newspaper and my fears were true there was no mention of my name in the winners column I was so disappointed. I felt thwarted by my destiny. I didn’t have the nerve to face my boss but I had to go on. So at 10 am I placed myself dutifully at my desk and waited for my doom… it came at about 11 am I was summoned to his office. I knocked and his garrulous voice pressed me inside his office.

“I got a call from the Asian Photography contest and your being asked to report at their base at 12,” he stated his face was impassive, “so get there as soon as your big @## you”….trust hawk to use his usual brand of language he could make any conversation unpleasant . I hurried from the office to catch a cab.. the west side of Mumbai was really far from my office. Several thought reeled my mind as to what was the reason and it won’t be much good as the winners are declared so lets find out what I am being called for. The photography club which organized the event was really fabulous the best selected entries were hung there and the winners would be felicitated later with the opening of the art gallery. As I ascended the steps to the head office I saw the gallery open and as I could not handle my curiosity, I cautiously went to take a peep at the prize winning entries…then I saw her there

I was stunned she was standing exactly like she was standing there even her clothes were black…but what was different was, her dress was now stylish, lovely and her hair was flowing curling at the end, but what made me recognize her was her face which I saw only from a side but how could I ever forget that face. She was intensely gazing at a picture which I didn’t look at as my entire focus was on her. I startled her just as I did the other day.

“You really have a bad habit of jumping on people” she said but her voice was light I didn’t respond. “Well why are you here? I asked her in not able to hide my bewilderment.” “Well I came here to make good some amends” she replied mysteriously “Amends ??” I asked my confusion mounting to highest state “Yes, you see my father is one of the great photographers of India and incidentally he is also a judge in the contest” she paused “so when one of the entries had my picture in it he was enraged and that too a picture of my tear filled eyes,” she stated watching with amusement at my stunned reaction.. I was shocked I could not respond “ So,” she continued “when he asked me well indicted me about the picture I had to make the confusion clear as to who clicked it, because my father in his temper stripped that picture of its worthy honor which the other judges liked so much”. I was astounded and angry “What you mean one of my pictures won but it was stripped of its honor?? I asked in disbelief. “But why was your father so worked out about your picture being taken?? It was just a picture of your eyes” I asked furiously and I was angry to be thwarted from a win just because I clicked someone’s daughter’s picture I seethed at the injustice. “ Well you remember the day we met and I was so upset…well…” she paused (vividly I thought) “ well the reason I was there was that I found that my boyfriend was a scoundrel and he too was a photographer and he had dumped me…I realized it only after he had left me so cruelly.. my father had known about him long time ago and warned even threatened me to get away from him but I didn’t listen to any of his warnings.. so when he saw me in the photo he immediately thought it was clicked by him even though it was in your name, he thought he had sent his picture in another name so as to avoid detection. That’s what made him so angry”

So this was her story but what about me, I thought so. As I opened my mouth she raised her hand mildly to silence me “So I told my father everything and he was convinced that it was you and to make amends he decided to give the entry a special prize and the other judges agreed heartily so just turn around and see the ‘Raining of the eyes’”

I turned around and there enlarged and framed in beautiful classy golden frame hung the picture, the picture of her eyes with the my caption ‘Raining of the eyes’ which I found to be best fitted to bequeath upon it accompanied it and adorned a part of the gallery . I was speechless, elated “aa! and one more thing you get a big special prize but that’s not for me to disclose. You will find out soon come” she beckoned me forward “to the office where you shall get what you deserve” with that she led me towards the exit and I followed in a happy daze. Things do come right at the end, if you have talent it would soon come to focus whether through, as in my case a camera, and in your case some other, but what matters is, how you capture it.


Yashomana Choudhury