I’ve got a picture; I’ve got an 8×10….

 For the past one week or so, I’ve been trying to click photographs. Ah, I am not at all good at taking pictures. I am perhaps the worst in the business when it comes to clicking photographs. Sometimes, the frame goes horribly wrong. If the frame happens to be rightly set, then the composition goes wrong. And if, in the rarest of cases everything goes right then I don’t know why and how the picture turns out be an extremely substandard one. By substandard, I mean to say a blurred image. Well, Photography is not at all meant for dreamers like me. But I still enjoy clicking random photographs without bothering much about the technical aspects of photography.

Renowned photographers around the world may disagree with me but my belief keeps growing stronger day by day that technical prowess is not and can never be a foolproof criterion of clicking flawless photographs. A photograph is bound to be beautiful even if it is flawed. To be very frank, the best thing about photography is that it allows you to innovate. You are free to let your imagination run wild and click whatever you want to.According to me, there aren’t any bad photographs, at times people tend to look like hideous crimson monsters.

When I started thinking in a more critical sense, I realized that to click a photograph means to hold and capture a moment. You don’t just click a photograph, you preserve a moment. A photograph keeps a moment alive. Photographs showcase people in a way which is quite different, a way in which they never see themselves.

Well, at times photography turns out to be a cruel exercise as it drags the captured moments of our past into our future. Some moments should be allowed to vanish into the past for if they stay with us, they’re bound to burn down our souls to ashes.  I would say, keep the pleasant memories close to you for they would always bring a smile on your face and will instil a sense of happiness and contentment in you and let the bad ones evaporate into the thin air for they are bound to drive your mind into a state of oblivion. Interestingly, when I look at my old pictures, I realize that I am no longer what I used to be. So I guess I can draw a conclusion that I’ve lost myself somewhere in the depths of my past.

Well, let me tell you that I am in love with someone, a girl barely 22 years old to be precise. I’ve been secretly downloading her photographs from Instagram and Whatsapp, some 150 of them to be precise.  I consider her to be my best friend. Oh sorry, she is not only my friend but also my soul mate. I’ve been downloading her photographs and storing them in my Smartphone’s file Vault. Interestingly, moments before writing this piece of expression, I used to think that once I preserve a photograph of my beloved, I would never lose her. But now, I get a feeling that those pictures will in fact make me realize how much I’m going to lose. So in that way, pictures make you realize how much you’ve lost with the passage of time. All photographs speak a thousand words. But photographs featuring her seem to narrate an entire epic.

A few days back, while I was glancing at some of my old photographs, the photographs featuring me and the person I love. Both of us were sitting in the college canteen clicking selfies. Both of us were smiling so hard, it was quite unbelievable, the camera’s frame could hold the happiness of that moment, and it was even more surprising for me to see that happiness did not shatter into a million pieces. It is still there with me.

Once, I asked my father “why do we smile while we get our photographs clicked? “ And hearing this question of mine, he gently replied: “It is because we hope that in our future, which is quite uncertain, we’ll have something to smile about”.

There are only a couple of women in my life, my mother is the first one and my beloved happens to be the last. I’ve kept my mother’s photographs in the vault of my cellphone for they are very close to my heart. And, the rest of them are those of the person I love. I tried to  delete those photographs, ah some of you might say in order to get rid of the evidences. But surprisingly, I couldn’t gather the courage to tear off even a single photograph of her.Okay, let me tell you her name. Her name is sunshine.

And, to conclude the argument, I can only say that I will miss you quite a lot, your cacophony full of silence, the way you made me breathe, my heart following you everywhere. I won’t be able survive the void once you’re gone. But fortunately, I have as many as half a thousand photographs and believe me; I will certainly cherish the pleasure of living those memories all over again. Frankly speaking, those photographs are not mere photographs; they happen to be my most valued and prized possessions. Those photographs mean a lot to me.

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