THE PHOTOGRAPHER IN SIGHT
Saleem Altaf
A camera captures every emotion, every feeling. The burst of a rainbow when one smiles and is happy, the dew of tears in sadness and the agitated confused look in the eyes of many. It is a box which has layers and layers of emotions within. The photograph which develops from this box is the result of one’s imagination and the way one has an outlook towards life. It has many untold stories of togetherness, struggle, commitment, brotherhood, courage, as if every corner is ready to speak up. The stories are as fresh as snow because the camera does not differentiate between people who use it. It just captures the emotion and feelings of the photographer. The camera conveys the message a photographer wants to give to the world.
I am such a camera from the Canon family. My owner resides in the beautiful valley of Kashmir. I was not born here but some thousand miles away, beautifully placed in the display window of one of the busiest shops in London. It was Love at first sight for me and my owner. While browsing through other things, Mr. Bashir’s eyes fell on me. Looking at me, he smiled, the most beautiful smile coming towards me. He picked me up and started gently inspecting the various parts. It was as if he was holding a newborn child, such was the softness in his hands and manner of picking and inspecting me delicately. I instantly fell in love with him. Our mutual love for each other brought me from London to Kashmir. Neatly packed in a suitcase with layers of protection, I arrived first at Delhi, then at Srinagar Airport and then to my palatial house. The house was an antique structure with such beautiful carvings that I was mesmerized by it. I was placed in a beautiful walnut wood cupboard with the most intricate carvings of Chinar leaves and Tulips. There I was sitting on my throne enjoying the movement of the house with people moving around. My owner was an artist in himself. I have often seen him painting the beauty of the surroundings on his canvas. Such is the perfection in his art that the canvas is peaking for us. A loving, family-oriented person, soft spoken and a deep thinker, all these were qualities of Bashir sahib. My Photographer.
In the course of my long journey with my beloved photographers I have captured many stories of love, brotherhood and integration, which was something I encountered. The valley was troubled with many untoward incidents. Every other day one could hear the killings and damage done to our Jannat by our friends from the other side. I have witnessed small kids creating ruckus and trouble in a peaceful neighborhood just because they were misguided by the Maddadgar from across the border. My eyes have captured the loss of innocence, the confusion and, at times, the fear in the eyes of these kids. Seeing so much mayhem around Bashir sahib used to get troubled a lot. Sitting by his window, he used to capture the chaos below with various clicks. My world which was filled with beauty and love now witnessed brutality and sadness. What pained me was to see the sad eyes of my beloved photographer. The same eyes that used to capture laughter and happiness behind my lenses. I used to pray to God to let my photographer use his lenses once again to spread happiness.
Days went by and at last my prayers were heard. One day while walking beside Lidder, God knows what came to mind of Mr. Bashir just went to a rock and sat there. I was taken aback by this sudden change, but what could I do? I was just hanging around his neck and waiting. We heard a commotion in the jungles nearby and at the speed of a sprinter, Bashir Sahib ran towards the noise. The scene which we witnessed made us spellbound. We saw a group of 2-3 friends from across the border harassing a local girl. Before we could react, we saw a group of soldiers rushing to her aid. They were like a bolt of thunder which struck the guys with such ferocity that there was no match for them. The girl was secured first and sent to a nearby vehicle where she was made comfortable. On the other hand, there was a scene which I could not forget. These friends were taught such a good lesson that they had fallen at the feet of soldiers, but nothing could save them. They were taken to the camp for inquiry. This was the first story of brotherhood captured by me. Bashir Sahib was curious, at the same time, concerned about the girl, so he decided to visit the unit and inquire, since he was a known personality. After completing all the formalities, he was allowed to go and meet the girl. This was done only after there was a thorough check-up on my photographer and his camera. Yes, I was searched inside out to know what was captured within me.
In the unit I captured my second story of love and togetherness. Bashir sahib was standing in front of a window which was overlooking the room where the girl was kept. We thought she must have been kept alone but we were wrong. She was surrounded by many ladies who were chatting with her. Someone was braiding her hair, and some were applying balm to her wounds. There were a few women who were talking to her in such a soothing way that one may think that a chat was going on between a frightened daughter and her mother. My second story brought tears to the eyes of my photographer.
The third story of protection and fulfilling one’s promise when the girl was handed to her parents. The CO of the unit was present along with other officers to safely hand over the girl. I witnessed a scene which was like witnessing blessings from the hands of God. The girl was in the most beautiful pheran, surrounded by the ladies and officers. I saw her smiling for the first time. There was happiness in her eyes, not fear. I saw one of the older ladies doing aarti of the girl and applying tilak and feeding them sweets. The hero of my story is the CO who spoke next. Keeping a loving hand on the head of the girl, he said Choti, which was the name given by the army guys to her. Choti from today you will never be scared in your life. Fear will never touch you. He took his wrist in front of the girl and from the aarti plate asked her to tie a silk thread to him. He said,” From now on, you are my sister. Your wellbeing and protection is my responsibility. I promise you that I will never falter in my responsibility of keeping you and all other girls like you safe. I will make sure that your minds will be free of any tension. You can enjoy life like any other girl from the country. No one will dare to trouble anyone of you from now on. Hearing the CO, the girl and her parents were filled with emotions and hugged him with tears rolling down their eyes. That day, the eyes of my beloved photographer were once again behind my lens capturing these beautiful stories.
The fourth story which made me proud. I was traveling to Lal Chowk with Bashir Sahib one afternoon. It was August. We were shopping at the same time, capturing some beauty of the bazzar around us. We heard a loud noise and before we could understand, we saw people running. There were a group of cowardly boys who had hidden their faces behind the nakab hurling stones at the nearby forces bunker. 2-3 of them started running towards the Flag trying to climb the pole to destroy it., they were trying all means to get to the flag. Now I thought any moment they would reach the flag. Oh God no, I cannot see this. I shut my eyes. A jolt ran through my body fearfully. I opened my eyes. I was astonished. I was hanging on the neck of my photographer half suspended in air. Bashir Sahib went to stop the boys from insulting the flag. He was punched and shoved black and blue, but he was not ready to let the flag fall in the hands of these miscreants. I was shouting from within,” There you go my hero. I was dancing with Joy. Suddenly, I felt like I was lifted up. Peeping through my lens hole I saw two hands who were supporting Bashir sahib. One more hero came from the crowd, for whom the Izzat of the Flag was the most important. Now Bashir Sahib and the guy were pushing these nakabposh boys behind along with the brigade boys who came seeing this misdeed. Within minutes, they were overpowered and taken into custody. Once the commotion settled, my photographer and the other guy were felicitated. I was so proud to be photographed by my other brother while I was hanging by my photographer.
My photographer has captured many slices and emotions of life within me. These stories are my soul. The soul which is pained at seeing destruction and innocence being lost, at the same time, the soul has brightened up, seeing brotherhood Integration and togetherness