I won’t write on politics or poverty today.
I would reveal something very personal to me.
Still remember, “Chchaa” that’s what I called him. “Can I take your photograph” I asked him, he hid a pack of “Bidi” in his fist and smiled.
Chchaa is an old man, he works as a labour at Connaught Place, Delhi. I shot this photograph, because I wanted a picture on “poverty”. I apparently got it too, his pale, torn vest and rugged hand sketched a “Perfect poor man”.
Later while editing this photograph, his smile captured me.
“What is wrong, why can’t I think of poverty now ?
Why can’t I write about labour’s social and economic deprivation ?
Why, now, Chchaa looked good to me and so much my own ?”
These were some clusters of questions that emerged in my mind, but very soon I got the answer.
Smile, shows hopes and the internal satisfaction. I am not a good face reader but I think Chchaa looked happy because he had worked hard. He looked very confident as if today his family is going to have their full meals.
Chchaa had rugged hands and a furrowed face. To cut his meal, he was going to smoke his “Bidi” but yet he looked calm and serene.
Hopes are always beautiful.