© All Rights Reserved. A Pratik Pakrashi photography|2011
“And when the lights were off, the darkness overwhelmed me, i felt i was lost, i felt i’m marooned and anything that was left with me were the mere memories of beautiful lights…. “
The dusty roads, the wars, the wind and swaying leaves; the hunger, the unheard cries, the solemn soul and the helpless shoulder, everything speaks for a while. He who cannot understand the enigma, can never portray through his soul and he who portrays it well is no one but a real photographer !
Some says its passion, some says its profession, some says its all about owning a costly camera but i say its about INSIGHT. We walk, we talk, we sing, we dance, we love, we laugh, we cry, we die… and then all that we need is to save them with ourselves forever, that’s when we ‘click’ !
Recently, i met a person, sounds to me as a war front photographer. He was calm, resolved and had a depth in the pitch of his voice. With a desolated look how hard he tried to explain me what happened to the soldiers i saw in his photographs. He told me about the pain, agonies of those soldiers and the blink of happiness and pride over the faces as they sacrificed their souls. He was, although, quite reluctant to his opinions, something that were shading his words, like, a growling cloud on a stormy night! For moments there was utter silence and later i could see a drop of pearl through his eyes rolling down over his cheeks. I was left silent as he spoke the real memories he had with those photographs. They were his feelings. I could sense the benevolence. It was not about what happened during the moment he freezed, it was not about how much glory that single photograph had or how much recognition it got from media, but, it was about what happened to that person after the very moment he clicked ! He could never know whether the man in his photograph really lived or died later, he could never explain himself that what could have been more better than to save his life or to get it clicked. Both were the acts of honor! And how hard he wished, he could see that man ever again in his life !
This is just one part of the story, there are millions of stories like this in this world. I believe every photographer has a story behind each of his/her photographs, the story – sometimes resolved, sometimes still a conundrum. A photographer is not merely a person with camera… he is a writer who writes a story of his own through his insight.
So.. as he concluded about the war; all i heard was an immensely felt pain emerging out through his heart “And when the lights were off, the darkness overwhelmed me, i felt i was lost, i felt im marooned and anything that was left with me were the mere memories of beautiful lights…”
- Pria G.
Your comments are awaited!
MACHER JHOL(FISH CURRY)
and so i did last night to talk with the stars, i kept brooding on my mom’s words and literally saying i really felt she was right. It’s not only my mom, its the story of every house having genX kids. For instance, my friend had puja in his house, instead of wearing kurta he wore jeans- that’s out of tradition. Look at me, i’m a bengali girl but do i have any feature like one ?(no long hair, no shining skin, no good vision neither a perfect diction of my own language) But one thing that authenticates me being a bengali is enjoying a delicacy of Macher jhol (fish curry) with hot served Rice.
