The photograph

by Vedika Pandey (India)

I didn't expect to find India

I had just wanted a flawless picture. It was my dream. I don't know what I was expecting, but this was not it. Instagram didn't prepare me for it. Nor did the locals. It was noon and the sky was clear and blue as if it wanted to hide the fact that it had rained sometime earlier that day. But it had. And the weather was humid and the potholes filled upto the brim. I was fiddling with the lens cover of my DSLR on my way to the Hawa Mahal - the Palace of Winds, analysing all the possible angles in which I could capture the place in all its artistic glory. The bumpy autorikshaw ride made me more anxious than I already was. My ride dropped me right opposite to the Hawa Mahal. I couldn’t help but stand still for a couple of moments to take it all in. The ancient palace stood strong, with its beehive structure of windows overlooking a series of small shops and cafes on my side of the road. The azure sky provided a striking contrast to the pink colour of its walls. It seemed as if sunlight from the midday sun casted a youthful glow to the palace walls - coaxing me to snap a beautiful photo of it. I wanted to believe it was perfect for photography. And it would have been so, had the place got rid of crowds. The only thing standing between the photo of my dreams and I was a street full of people and their vehicles and pollution all over the place. There I stood amidst all the chaos that despite everything had failed to deter me from pursuing my dream. It must’ve been a few small strides, I’m sure. I was walking down the sidewalk deciding about the angles and imagining my photo to be like the artistic ones I used to see on social media, when I was brought out of my reverie. It was as though someone jerked me out of a pleasant dream, when I realised that my right foot had gone straight inside one of the many potholes on the path, ruining my favourite pair of Jaipuri Jutti. I was tired and hot and with dirty, wet footwear on the right foot, but I was hell bent to not let it destroy my spirits. I had come for a perfect photograph, and a perfect photograph I would get. My dream had not changed. It just that my perspective of a flawless picture had become more inclusive rather than being exclusive. And so, when the shutter of my camera clicked, I knew that what I had captured what not just the beauty of the place but essentially the soul of it, for my photograph depicted not what I saw but what I felt. And I felt being overwhelmed by the chaotic energy on the street but then calming down on the sight of the magnificent Hawa Mahal on the backdrop of all that chaos, over and over again.