I’m not a photographer. Not by a long shot. However, I take a lot of photos. Mostly, of the most random objects possible. As I’ve told a lot of people before, I’m a forgetful person so I click mundane stuff because the most ordinary stuff makes me remember what I felt in that moment.
As we departed from Nallavagu yesterday–six people and twelve luggage bags overloading an auto-rickshaw–I saw the lake shimmer in what seemed to be a farewell. The lake spans across throughout the village and you can see it for a kilometer or two as you leave.
Funnily enough, there have been only two moments in the recent years when I didn’t take my phone out in a jiffy to take a photo of something. Yesterday, was the third.
The lake was there. The phone was reachable. Yet, I didn’t take a photo of it. It could’ve been the last picture of something I’d want to return to for a lot of years to come but somehow, I didn’t feel like it.
It is moments like these that really make me wonder what I value more – capturing every event, moment or fleeting thought with words and random pictures or the rare occurrences where I let them sink into memory.