Photographic memories

Photographic memories

As a child I do not remember being photographed much - of course we had the occasional group photos where we sat in the order of height or stood like a line of suspects for an invisible witness to identify. The photographer never asked us to smile - he basically fiddled with his camera until he could get the entire group in focus and then clicked. My first photo as an adult was in college - I needed a passport size photo for some reason I cannot remember. It could have been for a hall ticket or something. In a scary dark room, the photographer asked me to sit on a bench, covered his head and the camera with a dark cloth. He stuck out the left index finger and asked me to look steadily at it while he clicked. And he forgot to say 'smile'. So when the prints came out they had me looking very worried as if I might lose that precious finger entrusted to my care, looking steadily and sharply through the darkness.People who saw the picture never ceased to wonder what had engaged my attention so much - whether I was seeing a UFO land. It was unfortunate because for several years later whenever I needed a passport size picture I was told to make copies of the aforementioned much to my chagrin - but then who would give me another twenty rupees and make another set? I was not applying to be a model or anything - it was just for official records.

Fortunately this photo was not considered adequate when my in-laws - to - be requested a photo of mine for circulation among their relatives when my marriage was arranged. So I received a fresh photo allowance of Rs.30. This time I had to get it right in order to make the right impressions with the in-laws. A lot was at stake. After all, first impressions matter, don't they? So I went to a shop run by a friend. It turned out ok although my idea of a smile seemed to be to look as if I was trying to hide an oversized toffee on one side of my mouth. The right side of my mouth was drawn a couple of inches further but overall it was considered my 'natural' look and worthy to be passed around among total strangers without biasing them towards me. If there were jokes about that look I never heard about them - so far so good.

Then came the marriage album - the mother of all horrors. A group of well meaning friends had got together and bought me a make-up set to be used for the occasion and what was missing in it was supplied by a friend who was a Bharatanatyam artist. So in the June heat of Chennai I painted on foundation and 'rose' powder and eye liner and came out looking like a kathakali artist during the nischayatartam ceremony - the eve before the wedding. It was as well that the sweat wiped it off my face after a few minutes. My natural horror look was adequate for the occasion in stead of adding colour to it! Whether cosmic forces worked in my favour or it was a result of seeing me in full make-up - the main photographer fell sick that night. So there are very few photos of the wedding itself, mainly taken by a friend who ran out of film midway through the ceremony!

And then the real painful saga began - job applications, driving licence, passport, bank accounts - everybody needed a photo or three of them. I tried leaving my hair open, putting it up in a bun, removing my glasses, looking right, looking left, looking pensive, looking amused - but nothing worked. I always looked like it was the last moment before something exploded on my face - 'good bye dear life' look.

I needed to break the jinx and so I requested anita, friend and an excellent photographer to take a few pictures. She has a magic touch of transforming the most mundane scene into an amazing picture and I felt I would be more relaxed with her. Being the sweet gentle spirit she is,she readily agreed. So we were all set and happily smiling and then she picks up the camera and aims and there I freeze at the very moment she presses the shutter. 'One more time', I beg. Again, the same sequence of events. Again, again, again until she finally gives up. Either I contort my face all the time which no one notices because of my dazzling personality or this happens only when within a distance of a few feet of a camera lens. I look around and see young kids hardly out of their cradle smiling beautifully and confidently into a camera and it makes me more depressed. Why do my pictures look like cartoons of my face - exaggerating all the flaws?

The only comfort in all this is the thought that bored officials in several dark government offices just need to look at my pictures to burst into a smile and begin to count their own blessings. Probably this is the reason why I have NEVER had any problem with government offices - they see my picture, smile and then cover it immediately with the stamp 'approved'.