The tour guide had a simple, short name but for all the `tourists’ it was quickly forgotten as soon as it was shared. What was being noted down fervently – on phones, on note pads and diaries, scraps of paper – were the names of the places, ‘hot spots’ and other not-to-be-missed sights. I, having declared (to myself) that I have temporary amnesia when it comes to names of both people and places, chose to note nothing down. No, actually that isn’t true, I, like the others was furiously taking photographs of the place (Siang, Arunachal) but what I wasn’t doing was noting names down. So, naturally I forgot the tour guide’s name as soon as it was shared as well. Later, looking at him through the viewfinder, I noticed he had a typical North Easterner’s looks – bright faced, shining bright eyes, good skin. So sitting in the dry confines of the bus, I started taking his photographs.
What was uncanny about the man was his ability to pose exactly the same for each and every photograph. Only the activity in the background was changing, and my frame. His expression, laugh, crinkling eyes remained the same for the twenty minutes that I was clicking him. In a remote place, such a quality is a boon for any photographer with the subject pretty much refusing to stay still for more than a few seconds.
Later, when we descended from the bus into the next village like the photographer-tourists that we indeed were, I told him that he was a born natural, a pro at sustaining his gaze and keeping his look, and eye, straight into the lens. An ideal subject for any photographer. Especially on busy village roads where movement was rapid and fleeting at the same time.
“Why ma’am, its just my naturally good looks! “, he said.
I smiled the smile of the sated photographer. Who doesn’t love clicking a poser, tell me honestly?
March 28, 2018