When the
team lead suggested that we share our childhood photographs for a team activity,
as expected he got a mix-bag of responses. From ‘I don’t have any’ to ‘I don’t
want to share’ to ‘here you go’. While
some readily agreed to open their old storage cases, others refused that they
had any. Their hesitation was evident and maybe even justified to an extent. ‘Why do you need it? Is it compulsory to
share? What will you do with it? What if people laugh at me? What if someone
misuses those? What will others think about me?’ So on and so forth.
Everyone had multiple questions running in their minds. It was as if something
extremely personal and private was being made public.
In the
tough corporate environment, everyone, at all times is trying to portray a
respectable image. An image decorated with confidence, intelligence, knowledge
and capabilities. This is certainly no match with the image of a kid, lost in
his ignorance and innocence. They say a picture is like a thousand words and
bringing out a picture may also bring out the stories connected with it. Stories
that make us look clumsy, vulnerable and naïve, which again doesn’t match with
our current know-it-all status. In a culture that is deep rooted in virtues of constant
learning and evolution, the present is considered as an upgraded version of the
past. And thus, many individuals don’t take pride in sharing and talking about
the past, unless and until there is a glorified success story associated with
it.
Also, there
is a constant need to separate the personal from the professional. We are
comfortable being friendly with colleagues, neighbours and a wide array of
people, but cannot be friends with them. We as a generation are very conscious
of our personal space and make efforts to protect it. ‘My space’ is a symbol of
and is closely associated with ‘my individuality’. Sharing the picture and
accompanying memories was something like sharing a piece of oneself. In all
practicality we don’t expect others to identify this piece with the same
emotion and sense of attachment. In all likelihood the fear of becoming a butt
of all jokes also plagues the heart.
Thus while
everyone loved seeing their pictures in private, they hesitated in sharing it
publicly. The black and white picture became symbolic of their good and ugly past,
frozen in time, coexisting in its factuality, hidden deep behind closed doors.
I also went
back searching in old albums, looking for my childhood memories. Memories from
past, often relived in dreams. Memories from past, unmatched with present.
Memories from past, that can only be felt but can’t be touched. Seeing those
pictures was like opening a pandora box. Each picture had some stories
associated with it. Some untold, some forgotten and some cherished. It was
nothing less than seeing a movie replay.
There was a
series of random pics my father had clicked using a borrowed camera. He had
made me do the photo-shoot over two days, changing clothes, poses and locations.
Then there was another series, each taken on certain special occasion, each to
complete a film roll. From my first birthday to my brother’s wedding, from my
first week in school to last week prior to graduation, from family trips to
studio pics. The first twenty years of my life were spread out in front of me.
Flipping
through those old albums I couldn’t help but notice the stark differences. Its
true that today I look nothing like those pictures. Chubby cheeks have long
thinned down. Long oily platted hair now adorn a more contemporary look. Shiny
big eyes are now laden with dark circles and thick glasses. The shy timid kid
has grown up to be a confident out-spoken opinionated individual. Today I am
more sure of my choices. I am less apologetic about my mistakes. I have learnt
some new lessons, have unlearnt some old ones. My present is not a reflection
of my past. Neither is my past a testimony of my present. This is as true
today, as that was back then.
Yet the biggest
difference was in my reaction to this entire episode. Unlike on previous occasions,
I didn’t stop myself from bringing out the pictures. They are an integral part
of my existence, in which my present and future are very deeply rooted. And in
some unknown sub-conscious way, I am still trying to add rainbow colors to
those black and white pictures.
