Black and White Photographs

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.