Moments of Capture

The evening sun was slowly sinking itself to sleep when my feet touched the soft sand that was lazily lounging across the dry half of the beach; the other half drowned I presumed, since I could only 'sea'.

There still was enough time to click a picture of the colourfully laid out sky at the horizon, magnified at the point where it met the sea. 

The herd of clouds above, as usual, seemed to be moving slowly in search of new pastures. So determined, they don't even stop for the night. Or they do, after everyone else is asleep, I presumed, again. 

So I brought out my fancy phone and focused the 12mp camera onto the coloured horizon and clicked about 4 shots. I then quickly opened my popular photo-sharing app, struggled to choose the perfect filter, struggled to think of the perfect caption and struggled to get the perfect hashtags. Finally! I uploaded and it attained 56 likes in 10 minutes, what an achievement. Successful day indeed. Or was it? 

Because something had me startled. Maybe it was the sea opening my inner eyes, to see. 

So I stuck my phone in my pocket, stood up and began to walk back slowly, waving goodbye to the waves. And then it dawned upon me unlike the dusk, as I stopped and embarrassingly grinned to myself, that while I was engrossed in trying so hard to capture the moment... the moment itself, in the end, was hardly captured. 

The irony.

Seasoned Flavour

We met after years and I gladly listened as she poured her longing heart out to me. As she spoke, I carefully gazed into her hurting eyes with all the possible empathy that I had remaining..

Her hair was left down, uncared for; soft and cold, her ears were deliberately hidden. The evening breeze blew through her slowly-fading hair, gently as though caressing them with the richness of the flowers that bloomed around her, illuminating every lost strand. Her naturally radiant eyes transcended mere comparison, wearied and tired but not yet consumed. They warmly glanced back at me with refinement I couldn't fathom. The perseverance that they held, gave strength to her distinct beauty.

Gradually reformed and seasoned, through all the bitter and sour experiences that life could throw at her, she sits matured and peaceful. She is no longer the feeble little girl that once walked down the street, teased and abused by "rash bullies" double her size, or coerced into a life filled with filth and involuntary subjugation.

She is now the strong young lady who faced the darkness of reality, embraced it and then conquered it; moving towards the light that she always believed in..  As she smiles slowly back at me, I see the rays of the setting-sun enveloping and cuddling her weariness away; like when a well seasoned guitar is strummed gently, the melody that resounds from the harmonized strings is just magically refined and beautiful.

 The guitar that was once misused, neglected and broken, transformed into an instrument of grace, wonder and joy. And even though her journey is still being molded and refined into perfection, what I saw as we bid goodbye, was her radiating elegance, bringing to the world a profound sense of love; inevitably leaving a sweet trail of flavour wherever she passes...

... As she did for me.

Wading together

I was halted abruptly by the elderly gentleman in-front of me when he stopped moving forward. The foot path : a congested, uneven, one-way gully, didn't help me or the other agitated pedestrians behind, relying on my lead, but on the contrary - led to a frustrated series of sighs and a few 'kya yaar's, while they desperately struggled to stay dry and reach the train station, on that rainy Tuesday.

I peered over his shoulders and realized, in-spite of the noisy droplets of rain hitting everything in it's way, the rich-blue plastic sheet only a few inches above my head, was our only fortunate source of shelter for that moment  - stretching shabbily across; one end attached to the tiny tea stall to the right and the other end to a rather thin wooden post to my left which was being held awkwardly at the bottom by an efficient combination of the flourishing flood-water, a few submerged stepping stones and plenty of dense muck being greeted constantly by desperate feet.

The streets of Mumbai were flooded to the brim. At least that's what I overheard the convincing news anchor say. Moreover, I witnessed for myself, this unavoidable reality. Although I admit, I get claustrophobic quite soon, my intolerance has gotten me nowhere, as the semi-intentional pushing, shoving and random body clashes continued right through the day; the restricted path to the train station can get really crowded, not excluding our seasonal friend who seemed to be in a damp mood.

In the midst of this not-unusual chaos, I noticed an approaching young school-going boy, from a few meters ahead holding an umbrella. He carefully waded and half-skipped through the water and stopped just as he reached this elderly man in-front of me. 'Come uncle, I'll take you', said the little boy with a smile. Uncle willingly responded and held the offered umbrella in one hand and placed the other around the boys shoulders. The drops got heavier and louder but they carefully waded through the rest of the way together. Two strangers now companions. 

I could almost hear a faint applause for this warm cinematic scene. I smiled to myself, in spite of being shoved from behind. What happened after, is not quite important; that little umbrella boy just brought a ray of light into somebody's life. What would've been only a rough, humid and exhaustive day for that old man, was then, unexpectedly, sprinkled with sugar.

Don't we all need this comforting re-assurance from above? The one that says,'There's a light at the end of the tunnel.' 

Ironically, we wait stubbornly all our life, for someone else to pat our back, to say a kind word, to thank you; for others to tell you how good you are, to acknowledge you and appreciate what you do; for others to care for you and cajole you, to look after you and to console you; for others to say good morning first and listen to your story. 

I'm reminded of the comedy film 'Evan Almighty' (2007) which stamps a strong message with the abbreviation - ARK (Acts of Random Kindness). 

I would strive to begin with just one random act of kindness during my day and the world will have a lot more light in it. Gradually, what would start off as a tiny little paper boat will emerge an ARK and instead of sinking everyday, we could easily sail above the floods, just like the little school boy. 

Image credit : Rahul D'souza 

https://www.instagram.com/rahuldsouzaphotography/

Cottoned bond

I was just a few steps away, from the small entrance to my pale looking house that dim morning, when I heard a familiar voice shout out my name and I immediately smiled back, as I saw her run down the stairs to welcome me. She was really glad that I was back home and so was I.

It had been a while since I left on my work trip out of the state. With no prior notice due to last minute changes and train tickets, I left the house without really getting the chance to say goodbye properly.

Now after the long rugged return journey I witnessed, seeing someone who cares, come out to greet me just made me realise I was back home; I was loved. 

I bent down and gently rubbed her forehead as she tried to hug me with her outstretched fore limbs and paws pressed onto my shirt; as always, she wagged her tail with joy.










Image Credit : Rahul D'Souza
https://www.instagram.com/rahuldsouzaphotography/

Only she would know..

  The sun seems to be the hardest worker in the universe! Was what she was thinking, as her mother halted the car in the parking lot. They didn't have much time to waste, so they hurried through the path way, past the wide entrance of the moderately sized building and into the lobby which was quite attractive. "First floor, second room to the left", the eager receptionist shouted out, as mother and daughter tried not to skip a beat. Strangely enough, everyone seemed to be on an off, that Wednesday morning.

 8:13, she checked her watch and looked at her daughter one last time, just to make sure she was doing the right thing. 'I'm doing this for my little doll' was what was circling in her mind as she felt a sudden gush of emotional weakness inside, trickling from down her throat into her chest.

Just then, there was a click and the door opened in front of them. She wiped away the tears across her cheeks, took a deep breath and walked in, clutching her daughter's hand. 

'Good morning Ms. Menezes. It's good to see you. I'm glad you have finally made your decision. You don't need to worry, this won't be long", said the man who opened the door. She nodded, trying hard not to allow her eyes to moisten again. "Stay here darling, I'll be back soon." She said to her.

Ten minutes later she returns clasping a receipt in her hand saying out loud to her daughter who was gleaming back at her, "I've done it!" 

Ms. Menezes (23), just as she desires to be addressed, is a single mother who lives with her only child (5) in the country side far away from the supposedly literate and accelerated city life. All her childhood termed as the 'retard', her special teachers managed to give her the strength to persist against the tide and do something other than just sit at home with craft and games. 

Life moved on and found herself in a very challenging situation. In spite of being deemed 'capable' of having a normal life, she got no support. On the contrary was taken advantage of. 

That day, with all the courage and will power she could possibly muster (though being the first time without her personal mentor Miss Pereira), went ahead and enrolled at that elegant and well renowned music school, to learn the piano, only so that she could accompany her little daughter while she sang her favourite songs at night. 

What mattered to her most, was being there for her little girl. She was a guardian angel, teacher, best friend and above all, a mother. 

Hidden happiness

 She looked straight into the HD camera focused at her and beamed with utmost joy, showing all her little teeth. The steady warm breeze gently touched her neglected hair as the rays of the burning sun from right above rested on her unopposed skin, while eagerly standing there with a tattered dress which seemed to have lost it's color years ago.

This unusual scene, not surprisingly, got the foreign onlookers captivated with a certain sense of empathy. I, myself, not so much of an emotionally-attached character, would have just glanced and switched my gaze in the direction I was walking, if it had not hit me straight on the head that day.. 

I was in Rajasthan on one of my official trips when I realised how irrationally I was going about with things. Though life was throwing things at me, I was unsatisfied with what I was receiving. I needed elevation. So I was constantly planning and breaking my head, calculating steps to reach a better position - just like playing chess. Make a move, which leads to another, half of them earning me failure, entering into a string of 'unsatisfactory' moves...which ultimately finishes with 'the last man standing'. Is that really what I want my life to be? A series of robotic moves... to be left standing there all by myself, only claimed as the winner. Is that it? 

This little girl who hardly had two meals a day was enjoying herself in that very moment. I could sense that genuine eagerness and that thrill to have someone click her photo, or even if it was just a warm hello. I don't think she cared about impressing her high-profile neighbour, buying the best gadgets, attending the pre-monsoon parties, having a thousand likes on your latest instapic or worrying about how outdated her wardrobe is. I doubt she even knows what Facebook means. I'm in no way undermining her situation though, each one has his own sour candy to chew on..

To her, life was about having moments and more importantly, embracing them as they come; instead of living a fabricated life : one with a purposeless game-plan and an imaginary accomplishment (like the chess game we were playing*). Real joy remains invisible to us because we choose to look else where.

So, you could wash all that self-gratifying garbage off, open your eyes, take in a long gulp of fresh air, go out and start being human with a heart. The choice is yours. 

Look around, there's love to be found!

Live 

Love 

Laugh 

Repeat.

*Note : I'm not against chess. In fact I love the game. I just am very fond of using analogies so I apologize if I hurt any sentiments by doing so.

Image credit : Rahul D'souza 

https://www.facebook.com/rahuldsouzaphotography

Moments of hope

I was lazily cycling one dry, gloomy evening on an empty road, through a village that touched the sea, some time in September. I was feeling low and hopeless after trying to solve matters at home for the umpteenth time and the dull weather that evening didn't help.

I paused for a while to gather myself and like someone had turned on the switch, a wave of refreshing breeze brushed across me. I looked up and noticed the clouds giving way for the sun over the horizon. It's tender gaze getting my attention. This time it was so charmingly radiant and pleasing, that my heart began to sing a tune. I looked at the trees resting, and their branches gently swaying with the breeze, as if in rhythm. The lush green landscape comfortably unwinding itself. A flock of birds in formation were gliding high up towards the far end of the sky, which was suddenly warmly lit with a rainbow of beautiful colours.
As this glorious moment slowly sank into me and drenched my heart, I felt overwhelmed and re-assured that I am not alone; that I never was. 

To think that life was coming down on me was a delusion I strictly had to abandon and let in this fresh air I desperately needed. 

I quickly focused my camera and captured this heavenly scenery. "Life gives us beauty in abundance. These tender moments are meant for witnessing..." 

There are some experiences that bring life back into you and need no explanation. You know they're just perfectly right. Not doubting your sanity, you dwell in these moments that uplift your soul and extend yourself to the unseen; to the above and beyond, this material world cannot fathom. 

Out there lies a subtle but serene ray of hope that we all need. No form of worldly method or system can measure this reality. We quench for this infinite, incorruptible state of bliss. That which rests at the end of the tunnel; that which ignites the air at the horizon. We slowly move towards this light; for hope exists for fulfillment.