The Perfect Frame

by Rishita Dey (India)

Making a local connection Cambodia

Her sticky fingers urgently tugged mine. I carefully stepped out of her little boat to the rickety ramp. It was the front porch of her house which was nothing but an assortment of bamboos, scraps and tarpaulin. I would hardly call it a house. But for little Lily it was her world. Looking around I surveyed my surroundings. I was stranded in a no man’s land of Tonle Sap Lake, Cambodia. Churning the muddy water many boats lazily floated catching the last tangerine rays of the setting sun. There was a shimmer in the water turning it into molten silver, reflecting scarlet crest atop its gentle waves. Shivering inwardly, I stepped inside to follow Lily. Immediately it felt like I consumed the whole space. It was hardly fifteen by fifteen feet, forming dining space, bedroom and a kitchen, all in all. My eyes scanned the room and came to a halt seeing her mother. Wiping her hands on her grimy skirt, smiling she approached us. The place reeked of poverty, scarcity and impoverishment. My smile faltered. Excitedly Lily started saying something to her. Pointing to a collection of picture pasted on one of the walls and me. Those pictures! I knew them well. There were six of them. Each 6.2x4.6cm. They were from my Fujifilm instax mini 9, which was still hanging from my neck. All of them were of Lily’s, capturing her perfect tropical blush; her playful brown eyes; her free-spirited laughter and her innocence. Her mother looked apologetically at me. Concerned of her daughter’s childish feat of taking the pictures from me, a stranger, she said something sternly to Lily. Vehemently the little girl shook her head in refusal. Unable to understand their language I tried to gesture that it was alright for I had given them to her myself. Sighing, her mother came forward and gently took my hands. She brought me close to the wall. I looked on, as she delicately peeled the edge of one of the pictures. The picture loosened, partially revealing a palm-sized hole behind it. My heart stopped. Turning to look at Lily, tears welled up in my eyes but her smile had not faded. I could not hold back my smile. Suddenly Lily’s mother dashed to her kitchen corner. Returning with a bowl she offered me to eat. It was kuy teav or noodle soup. Realizing it was probably their dinner; I vigorously shook my head, rejecting her offer. Swiftly Lily came up to me forcing the bowl into my hands. I could not say no anymore. I could not take a single picture despite having my camera. The first time I saw Lily was yesterday. I found her ogling at my bubble-gum pink camera. She perhaps had never seen a toy-like camera. Smiling I had waved at her, motioning her to pose. She listened. I took her first picture. Her eyes went saucer-shaped hearing the whirring of the snap pop out. I offered her the first picture as a gift. With her eyes gleaming she took it in her out stretched hand. Her happiness was obvious. With my hands flailing I tried explaining her to pose for more pictures. She understood. In a flurry of motion I kept clicking. Satisfied after five shots I gave her a thumbs-up indicating I was done. Hopping she came up to me and extended her hands. I was speechless. Did she expect me to give her all the pictures? Looking into her eyes I could not refuse. Sighing, I gave all of them to her. Dejectedly, I watched her sprint towards her waiting boat, disappearing with my pictures. I returned empty handed. Next day I was back. Hoping for more pictures. Lily was there, waiting for me. Did she want me to click more pictures? I definitely cannot keep giving away my photographs, I thought dismally. Reaching my side she pulled me towards her little boat. She wanted me to go somewhere. Curiously, I obliged. Deftly maneuvering the waters she brought us to her floating home. Parking the boat she tugged my fingers to follow her inside. Not knowing that day I would return finding my pictures on the right wall of frame.