August 20, 2009 (Session 7)

It had been one week since the participants had a camera around their necks and had found a new way to seeing things they often saw and show what their eyes captured, through their camera. Each camera had the chance to capture images seen by two women, and after a short period of downloading the photographs in the Awaz-E-Niswaan office, it was time for the participants to talk about what it meant to actually have a camera with them.

Ravi Shekhar wanted to know the experiences of the women when they were armed with the camera and moved around their known and unknown spaces in the city, to capture the various moments. He acknowledged the fact that people are usually afraid of the camera – it is like a mirror to them which shows them their true colour, and they are scared that their true colours will actually be revealed. He also spoke of the necessity to be smart while wielding the camera so that the person taking the photographs do not come in the line of fire or ire.

“I had once seen a documentary film on a secluded factory where dolphins were fished out and were being cut by huge saws that were operated by machines. It was a highly restricted area, so obviously it was impossible for a camera to be let in. But the filmmaker somehow managed to get his camera in there and film what goes on inside the factory. That requires courage and smartness. The camera has the power to draw instant attention and so it is necessary to be swift and smart,” he explained.

It was not the time for the participants to talk about why they captured in their camera, what they captured. So while some photographs were still being downloaded, and after a lot of contemplation on who would come up first to share their personal camera experience, Raheema decided to bow down to pressure and talk about what she saw. “It was during one Ramzan evening that I decided to take my camera out and capture the mood, few minutes before the people could end the fast for the day. It was nice to see the area decorated with lights and people standing near food hawkers. As I was busy clicking photographs, I noticed one particular man who approached towards me and insisted that I take his picture. When he did not stop pestering me, I finally decided to take his photograph too. Besides, since I was very happy to have the camera in my hand, I also took photographs on my family and household, when they were busy with their mundane lives,” she explained.

Raziya that a madaari performing acts with a child and a monkey had caught her eye, and it was humbling to see the child holding his hand out to the forelimb of the monkey. “I took about three photographs of them and then moved a little ahead on my street to see a man working on Ganpati idols. It was overwhelmed to see how the artist had painted every minute detail of the idol with patience. There is also a bakery shop quite close to my house from where I purchase my daily bread. I was intrigued to learn how was bread made, so I went to the shop and began to take photographs, as well as a video, of the different processes involved in making bread, beginning with putting the flour into a machine to make the dough. I also learnt that different processes are employed to make pao and naan. Further, I also took photographs of a shop where supari or betelnut is cut. Also, I saw some labourers who would come to the city for work from their villages and they would hardly get their pay on time because of the ruthless contractors,” she explained.

As the week that passed by also celebrated India's 62nd Independence Day, Paigumberi decided to mingle among celebrating crowd to take photographs. She said that although crowds made her nervous, she found it all the more annoying that the general public stares at others who decide to do some work on the road. “I hated it when everyone was staring at me when I was taking photographs. Eunuchs proclaim that all three sexes are united and they are no different from males or females, yet they are the noisiest lot – they were overreacting when they saw me with the camera. On the other hand, when I was trying to take photographs of my mohalla, the people began to mock at me. They said, 'Suddenly the milk vendor wants to become a crorepati, just with a camera in her hand.' I chose not to reply back at them, but some of them went and complained to my mother about what I was doing. They did not dare approach me themselves. Even my uncle said that it would be best if I had a press card with me so that I did not have to bother about my security,” Paigumberi said with an angry tone.

Paigumberi wondered how could one tackle the issue of crowds and unwanted stares. “I also went for the gay pride march, and was literally just an ant among the swarm of photojournalists. I wanted to take the photograph of Celina Jaitely by there were huge men who were doing their job of being her bodyguard rather too well,” she cited.

Fatima, on the other hand, had to face a strange dilemma – her younger brother had too many questions to ask her about the camera, and he was adamant at not letting himself be photographed. “In the beginning, whenever I had to take any photograph and would begin to focus my camera on the subject, my hands would shiver. Plus, the opposition that my brother was putting up unnecessarily was annoying. I thought to myself, if I am having to face so much trouble in my own home, how am I supposed to go and work out in the more mean world? So I decided to document the interactions between my children and my nephews,” she said, happy at having found a solution to her problem.

While some participants had to come to terms to their own fears and apprehensions, someone like Rubina knew how to tackle any menace. “When I went to the market area to take photographs, everyone was staring at me. I was aware that I was attracting a lot of attention, but I decided to ignore it all. When I was travelling by taxi near Byculla church, I saw a cow sitting in the middle of the road very quietly and elegantly. I took a photograph of that cow while the taxi was still in motion. The shopkeepers in the market were wondering what a woman wearing a naqaab was doing with a camera, in the middle of the street. Some of them even asked me what was I doing, to which I replied that I am sending my photographs to Dubai! They asked me if I had the permission to take photographs, but when I retorted back angrily as to why should I need permission and whose permission should I take to keep them quiet, they all went mum and got back to doing their own work. This whole episode reinstated my self confidence,” she said with a bright smile as she recollected her tryst with her camera.

So it wasn't a surprise either that Rubina's testimony was followed by a loud applaud by the rest of the participants. Next in line was the reticent Yasmin, who admitted that she was confused about what photographs she could take. “I was travelling by train and I remembered the photographs taken by Jyotika Jain. I decided to take the pictures of the hawkers trying to make a living by selling various articles on the train, but they became very conscious of my camera. After a few photographs, I was compelled to put my camera back into my bag. This week there were also magnificent celebrations of Janmasthami, so I took pictures of the human pyramids that were being formed,” she said.

Nilofer, on the other hand, said that it was with much struggle and personal determination that she was able to take some photographs. “I didn't have the courage to go alone and take photographs. I had called up Gazala but she ditched me in the last moment. I asked in my family if anyone would accompany me, but I ended up fighting with them. I took a neighbour's kid along but had to bribe him with sweets. Finally, I went to the slums in Wadala and took photographs of the way people live in such small areas. One vegetable vendor saw me taking photographs and almost began to fight with me. I was determined that I would surely take her photo. So I stood between two cars so that she could not see me, and then I clicked on,” Nilofer remembered.

Nilofer had also gone to the gay pride march along with her friends Yasmin and Gazala, and the trio had an experience of a lifetime. “We were busy taking photographs of anything that caught our eye, including eunuchs. One eunuch got really angry when I was taking her photo, and almost began to get into an argument with us. We apologised to them and they offered their hand to make peace. My hands began to shiver when I had to shake my hands with them! But we did not begin our photography journey without taking off our burqa, which we did, behind a truck. We then immediately wore some colourful masks to hide our identity, especially since there were a lot of media around. Many photographers thought us to be lesbians and wanted us three to stand together and pose near banners which shouted aloud about supporting same sex relationships. But we would walk away each time,” recounted Nilofer, as the other participants only laughed as she narrated every detail.

Nilofer added that after the march, they went to Girgaum Chowpatty where they continued taking photographs. “There the people thought that we were professional photographers and hence they did not bother us, and let us do our work,” she concluded.

Gazala, too, had tales about her first experience as a 'photographer'. “After having taken the obvious photographs of my family, I wanted to take the photograph of a handicapped woman who would come in our area to beg for alms. She was a stiff woman but somehow she allowed me to take her photograph. I was convinced that I had to take her photograph anyhow, because I could very easily relate to handicapped people. Later, when we went to the gay pride march, it was really nice to hear everyone talk in smattering English. I tried to converse too in English and one person wanted to take my photograph too, but I denied. He was kind enough to respect my denial,” said Gazala.

She added that on her route to her house, there was a BMC school and adjoining it is a slum. “I wanted to take their photographs and they began to look at me with questioning eyes. They asked me who I was, and I replied with pride that I was a photographer. They were glad to have a photographer among them and they welcomed me happily to talk to them and photograph them,” she said with confidence.

Shabeena wanted to take photographs of anything that she liked – be it the ice cream she ate, or the innocent eyes of a boy who was administered with glucose in a hospital. “I somehow convinced the kid and his grandmother to let me take their photograph, and they obliged.”

With a mother who is apprehensive about how her daughter would take photographs, Naheeda had to resort to utter some lies to be able to take photographs. “I work at a beauty parlour and so I had told them that I needed to go to the medical shop. But instead, I roamed for a bit and took photographs of vegetable vendors, the vendors selling fish, and anything else that seemed interesting in a market landscape. But then my battery died so I had to walk back to the beauty parlour. One day I had to go to Santacruz station and was quite agitated to see the slow pace of the work of the skywalk, which was in turn causing much trouble to the traffic situation. There was no place to walk in peace, and hence I took a couple of photographs there. Some vegetable hawkers who saw me taking photographs insisted that I take their pictures too, I obliged, and with many photographs to show my mother, she too let her guard down. She allowed me to take her photograph too. Now I am more confident of taking photographs anywhere,” she said with a radiant smile.

Another person to have found new confidence in herself through the camera was Tabassum. After having taken photographs of her family, she was able to shed any fear that could be hidden within her. “Now I want to take more photographs with a larger and more professional camera. Usually when I am walking on the road, nobody bother to look at me. But now, as I walk on the road with my camera in hand and taking photographs, they all notice me and do not mess with me. I have also learnt to take more time to compose my photographic frame so that I do not take any random photographs,” she said.

For Badrunissa, trying to get her daughter safely home from school became the subject of her first experience with the camera. “There is a slum near the BMC school at Agripada where my daughter studies. There have been many attempts to remove those slums – there was a murder there, and even Raj Thackeray had paid a visit. But the slums are still there and it is a nuisance because young girls like my daughter fall prey to eve teasing by the men. So I took photographs of that area,” she said.

Badrunissa also had been to Vashi during the week and was privy to a funny spectacle – a kid riding astride a dog. “I also had taken photographs of the wall paintings at Vashi railway station, followed by some photographs of some cops trying to catch some sleep. They saw me and I was afraid that they would confiscate the camera. They approached me but I was smart enough to convince them that I was only taking photographs of the wall paintings. After that trip to Vashi, I felt that I was more at ease to take photographs in my locale,” she narrated.

Ayesha had a long story to narrate about her manifold experiences with the camera. Choosing an idea to photograph had stuck in her mind ever since she left the workshop the previous week's evening. She was sure that one of the things that she would want to take photographs of was the market in Dongri where she spent her childhood, and the ladies who sold mogra flowers as gajra. "I was constantly aware that my hands were shivering when I was taking the photographs because I was afraid that the cops sitting at the nearby chowkie would snatch my camera, when they would notice a burqa-clad woman taking photographs. But somehow I managed to muster courage each time I took out the camera. Later, when I took photographs of the women selling gajra, some of them took off offence to it, while some others approached me and asked me to give them their photographs that i had taken. I also was quite intrigued by people who had made with the road – be it a drunken man who was swaying, or a woman who was selling vada pao along with another man, or some people who live on the footpath with just a tarpaulin sheet as their roof," Ayesha explained.

Ayesha is also trying her hand in business through Amway, and so she also took photographs at a seminar conducted by the company. She said that she remembered Sudharak's words that a place needs to be revisited many times so that its different aspects could be captured. "So I decided to minutely look at my daily route from my house to Sandhurst Road station. I also took photographs at the entrance of Haji Ali and when the vendors there asked me why was I taking their photographs, I told them that if my work was good, an exhibition could be put up. They then agreed to let me photograph them. I also tried to take my camera inside Atria Mall but I wasn't allowed to do so. One day, when I was travelling by train, I came across a South Indian eunuch who seemed upset that the train was empty, so she could not make any money. I asked her if I could take photograph her, to which she agreed and insisted that her photograph appear on the front page of a newspaper! Incidentally, I bumped into her again at the gay pride march later in the week," recollected Ayesha.

Reshma had an equally interesting journey while taking photographs. She had attended the gay pride march along with Ayesha and when she saw a fantastic photo opportunity, she climbed up a grill and worked through her camera. "Imagine a girl, all clad in burqa, climbing up some grills, to take photographs of the proceedings of a gay pride march -- the media there went berserk on seeing me that way and suddenly all professional lensmen turned towards me! The media wanted to know if I was attached to any organisation because of my participation. After that episode, I remembered that there was a girl in my neighbourhood who was strictly confined to her indoors. I requested her father's permission to let me take her photograph as it was needed for my photography examination. He told me to visit them the next day, but then he did not let me in later. I was dejected. Meanwhile, when I travelling by train just two days ago, I noticed that nobody would want a fisherwoman sit next to them. I decided that I wanted to their photograph," said Reshma.

She then told us about her arduous journey to document a single day in the life of a fisherwoman. Reshma reached Bhaucha Dhhakka the next day at 6.30 am to catch all the action. "I did not notice the signboard which said that cameras were not allowed. So although I took several photographs, one man finally noticed me and asked me politely to leave.He told me to take permission from the head office, which as shut at such an early hour. I went to the bridge where I saw fish being segregated and loaded onto vehicles to be sent across the city -- I was able to get their photographs. I learnt that they would also head to Dongri market and so I took a bus and reached there. I had to wait for two hours before the truck with the fish arrived. I took those photographs and also asked some fisherwomen if they would be okay if I took their photographs when they were heading home," Reshma explained.

She continued, "I was able to take photographs of the entire processes involved in the fish market. While some women agreed to being photographed, others were reluctant. One lady who was ready to let me take photographs, didn't let me take them finally after she was brainwashed by one of her colleagues. I managed to find out that the women do not go home with their basket, but I wasn't able to take photographs of the episode when they would return home. This entire experience – from 6.30 am to late at night – taught me not to be deterred by people's reactions," elaborated an already-professional Reshma, who had enthralled the audience with her narration of girt and determination.

Heena said that she wanted to take photographs of the Janmasthami celebrations, but the organisers did not allow her to do so. "They people in my mohalla were more interested where I got the camera from, if I had purchased it, what was I doing with it, etc. All those questions were annoying me. Then I shifted my focus to the vegetable vendor, the man who delivers gas cylinders, a child being taken to a doctor, and such observations that I had made in my locale. I saw a child in a dispensary and wanted to take his photograph, but he was afraid that I would print it in the newspaper. I was inspired by Sudharak's works on the conservancy workers of Mumbai and wanted to photograph something similar, but I had to put in a lot of efforts to convince people to let me photograph them," she said.

The narration of personal experiences drew to an end, and Ravi said that it was indeed necessary for everyone to admit that they were initially afraid to take photographs in public. But Mexy interrupted that it was evident from the photographs that the level of confidence among the women had surely increased. "But I think all of you would agree that the best photographs are those which were taken from a closer distance – the lack of distance from the subject is enough proof of the confidence in taking photographs," observed Ravi.

The confidence among the women was summed up best by the argument that Ayesha had to put forth during one of her interactions with a woman selling gajra. "The woman had told me that I would have to pay her Rs 20 if I wanted to photograph her. I told her that all I had was my camera and no money. She had no other option but to keep quiet. People were not bothered who was standing next to them when Celina Jaitely was up on the stage, but they were bothered when I was taking photographs. But this experience has showed me that I do not need to bother really what people have to say," she said.

August 27, 2009: (Session 8)

As the holy month of Ramzan had commenced, the participants had decided to come to the workshop at 1pm, so that they could be get home early well in time to beak the long spells of their fasts. The participants began trickling into the airy office of Awaz-E-Niswaan one by one, and begun to hand over the memory chips their cameras to Anuja, so that their photographs could be downloaded. Anuja, a budding self-taught photographer, had begun to come for the workshop recently and had developed a camaraderie with the participants of Awaz-E-Niswaan.

The workshop was joined by some more senior people – Sudharak's friend Dilip Raote, a senior journalist who had a regular column in Mid-Day and had recently taken to photography; Ravi's friend Lima Rosalind, conservationist who was with WWF and is now working in Ranthambore National Park. Also accompanying Sudharak was Helena Schaltze, who had just landed from Germany that morning for her joint photo-exhibition with Sudharak.

Everyone sat in one large circle and Ravi began the workshop by asking everyone to talk about they spent their previous week. “Now that Ramzan has begun and your eating habits have changed for some time, how has been the week? How has been the experience of taking photographs now, after the initial hiccups and nervousness? Were you able to take photographs this time around more confidently?” he asked.

Reshma said that there was a school on her way home, from Sandhurst Road station, and the previous Thursday after the workshop, she decided to stop by at the school. “I spoke to one of the teachers that I met there and I told her that I was learning photography. Through our conversation, I learnt that the school was celebrating Teacher's Day in advance as on September 5, due to Ramzan, any kind of celebration wouldn't be possible. I was told that I should meet the principal the next day so that I could be allowed to take photographs. When I met her the next day, she was quite delighted with the prospect that someone who document the function for the day, and she even remarked that she they known that they would be subjects for photography, they would have worn some fancier clothes!”

Reshma then went on to explain how she spent the day shooting the Teacher's Day function in that school. Some children enacted a stage play wherein they dressed up as teachers and scolded their fellow classmates, who were their students in the play. The students had then left the school and the teachers began to play their share of games. “There was a game in which four corners had names of four cities and everyone was running when the music was on, and when the music was stopped, one city would be eliminated. There was a lot of action and hence it was difficult for me to take photographs. The next game was about lighting many candles with just one matchstick, something that could not be accomplished by anyone completely. They also played a game of musical chairs, and later on, the winners of these games were awarded with prizes. I felt honoured when the teachers invited me to have snacks ands coffee with them,” Reshma explained.

Reshma had earlier told Sudharak that her paternal uncle had his heart on the right hand side of his body, and although he leads a normal life, he gas to often go to the doctor for regular health check-ups. Sudharak had then suggested her to document on camera how his day-to-day life, right from the time he wakes up till he retires for the day. “I went to Nerul to meet my uncle and i was able to shoot quite a few photographs. This time around, I was glad that nobody stopped me from taking photographs, anywhere,” said a happy and evidently confident Reshma.

Hasina, who was glad to hear that quite a few women had participated in the gay pride parade that took place on August 16, 2009, was eager to know more about the experiences of the women who had been there. “What did you observe and what were your overall experiences being part of such a huge and different kind of a parade?”

Reshma said that the first photograph that she took at the parade was taken after she had climbed onto a grill, and had one hand gripping onto an iron bar for support and the other hand holding the camera. “Looking at me, many photographers from the media came to take my picture because i think it was an unusual sight for them.” she added that there was a general camaraderie in the air, and that she was glad that there weren't any dampening elements who would pass on remarks to her. “It was also for the first time that i saw a filmstar from such a close distance,” she said.

Gazala, Nilofer and Yasmin, who had gone to the parade together, and had walked separate paths so as not to attract attention of mediapersons, elucidated their experiences, which they had shared in greater detail in the previous workshop session.

While Nilofer said that this time around she concentrated on taking photographs of her home and the Ganpati celebrations at a pandal near her house, Yasmin said that she took photographs of people in her surroundings and ensured to take their permission before capturing them on camera.

Gazala said that she knew about some women in her neighbourhood who were victims of domestic violence, and she wanted to tell their stories through her photographs of them. “My best friend was married off to a man, and when she entered their house after getting married, she found that she had been cheated – there was nothing in that man's household. They had told her parents that they were well off, but the opposite was true. There is also a widow whose photographs I took. She has three children and to support the family, along with the mother, even the eldest child does some work. It is very sad to see such abject poverty. Yet I encountered another woman who had suffered violence at home at the hands of her husband and in-laws,” said Gazala.

Gazala said that she was enchanted the way Mohammad Ali Road was decorated during Ramzan, and she wanted to capture the glittering mosque in her camera. She decided to ride pillion with her brother on his bike and then go about shooting, like a pro. “My brother rode above the JJ flyover and then he halted for me to get off and take some photographs. I then noticed a cop who was observing me, and when our eyes met, he instructed me with hand signals to go back and not take photographs. I requested the cop that being a photography student, I needed to take some snapshots. After much coaxing, he allowed me to take just about two photographs, but I managed to take quite a few of them,” she reminisced with excitement in her voice.

Naheeda, who still seemed to have been in awe of the camera and nervous about using it, stated that during the rains that lashed her neighbourhood in the previous week, most of the nullahs in her area were clogged, which was quite a menace. She therefore wanted to show her disapproval of the situation by taking photographs of the clogged nullahs and the garbage. “There is also a Ganpati pandal near my house and I decided to capture the frenzy within the pandal through my camera,” she said.

Rubina said that following the previous workshop session's instruction to document their personal lives, she decided to show something peculiar from within her house which would not be seen in any other house. “We have a certain iron instrument in our household which we call 'chhongey', which is used only during Moharram. Then we also have a special machine that was made by my grandfather, which is used to prepare sweets in bulk during festive seasons. These were some of the things of my family and household that I thought would be essential for me to show to the world,” she said.

Rubina added that she also went to the shops in her neighbourhood to try and get some good images, but one of the shopkeepers told her that if she happened to get the photo published, the cops could come and accost him for no reason. Yet she managed to take the photographs that she needed, as well as that of a local MLA whose visit into the locality had led to a huge crowd congregating that day. It was also during that week that one of Rubina's friends had a kidney ailment and succumbed to her disease. “During the funeral when all the people were gathered for mourning, and I was trying to capture the last journey of my beloved friend, I could hear people commenting behind my back, 'Look, there she is, the divorceee'. That annoyed me no end. Even at a grave time of a mourning people were more concerned about me and my life. It was just the wrong time and place to make such comments, yet people never miss a chance to gossip about somebody's life. I have moved on, why can't they too?” said an embittered Rubina.

Saira then narrated her experiences with many different people from different walks of life, whom she wanted to capture in her camera. She met a lady who was selling kerosene, another who was a vegetable vendor, yet another near the railway station. “All of them permitted me to take their photographs and we would engage into some friendly conversation. There is a woman in my neighbourhood from whom I often buy many household articles. This time, I went to her to take her photograph and we got into a long conversation about us and other general things,” she said.

Sudharak thought of what Saira had done as one of the achievements of the entire workshop – engaging with people through conversations. “Saira had a reason to engage with them this time, and that reason was the camera. This is exactly what is expected of you – to engage into conversations with people, but without the camera. The camera gives you a lot of confidence but you need to take that to another further step ahead. You should be able to assert your point confidently. The camera has been the perfect starting point for this, and this is the prime motive of this workshop,” he explained.

Tabassum said that she and her friend Heena had to one day go to a masala company for a job, but it was only half way down their journey that they realised that Heena hadn't asked for the address to that place! While they were on their way, then came across a slum area where a hefty man was beating up his wife just outside their meagre house. “We told him to stop beating her up but he retorted back, 'She is my wife and I can do anything I want with her. Who are you to stop me?' I got very angry and told Heena to take out the camera. When he saw the camera, he froze. He pushed his wife inside and yet he was trembling before us and we had barely taken his photograph when he walked away in huff. The entire road was filled with drunk and abusive men but somehow we got past that road and reached our destination. We had to then go to Powai for a job interview and on our way back, we decided to walk instead of taking an autorickshaw as we wanted to look around and take more photographs. Our legs were aching but we decided not to give in to those cramps,” said Tabassum.

She added that both of them had to pass the same slum area on their way back home and remembered the man who was beating his wife. “Suddenly, we saw that man again who was hiding behind a wall when we saw us. He looked as us slyly and we looked back in anger at him.”

There was a loud roar of laughter and applause when all the participants heard Tabassum's story. Sudharak was more than happy at the way she handled the situation at that time, and the resounding response to it now at the workshop. “Keep up this tempo, and get similar experiences even without your camera. You have a right to stop someone from abusing another person and make yourself heard. In fact, you should have gone between the couple, showed him the camera and shouted back at him that if during the fight, the camera was dropped or broken, then he would taken to the police station and liable to pay for it. And next time if they ask you what possibly could you do to interfere into someone else's matter, then just retort back that you have a brother in The Times of India who could fix them straight!”

Sudharak's bold and encouraging words were received with great enthusiasm and refreshed looks on the women's faces.

The narration of experiences went on. Raheema said that she wanted to capture the mood of the evening in her neighbourhood, just when the Muslims were breaking their fast. As she had lifted her camera to take a shot, she noticed a policeman right in front of her who pointed out his finger towards her as though telling her not to do any such thing. “And I got nervous. But I went up and spoke to him, explaining that I was a student. It was essential for me to take photographs but he wouldn't budge. I pestered him for long enough but he wasn't ready to comply with my requests. I walked back home sadly.”

Sudharak then told Raheema that despite mustering the courage to talk to the cop, her success would have been recognised if she had managed to convince him and then bring home the desired photographs.

Shabeena was still shy to narrate tales of what all she had been shooting through the week, and plainly stated that she went to Ranibagh and got some snapshots from there. Heena said that she was going to her father's house one day and on her way, she came across the police station. “I went in to the police station and since I had been there so many times, everyone greeted me and hence I was able to take their photographs with great ease. I had also gone to Koparkhairne and took many photographs of a Ganpati pandal there.”

Sudharak asked her about her experience when she was with Tabassum, when both the women saw a man beating up his wife. “I felt that I should not have had the camera in my hand, but instead, a large stick so that I could beat him back. But I derived quite a thrill when we saw him petrified later, on our way back home,” she said, with her characteristic laughter adding volume to her words.

While Badrunissa focussed her camera throughout the week on her household and her family, Ayesha was able to shoot only for a day as a bad toothache had killed her tempo the next day. Ayesha had a close friend whose family would bring the Ganpati idol each year in their house, and Ayesha would be invited too. “I went to her house for aarti just before the visarjan and was able to capture the mood of the dancing crowd on their way to Chowpatty. I managed to take photographs for a good 5 hours but then it began to rain and I didn't want the camera to be affected. So that is where I ended my project work,” she said.

Raziya said that she had gone to her native village and there were many things about the rural landscape that caught her eye. She had gone here to visit her aunt and had noticed a small boy with huge dark glasses. When she enquired, the boy's mother said that he had undergone surgery. “I took the boy's photograph and then I saw a small tempo where many people had boarded it. It was the quintessential rural India before my eyes. When we reached a public bus stand, I was roaming around trying to look for interesting things to capture, but my mother was getting irritated for roaming around and attracting attention. Later, when we boarded the bus, the deep valley looked very enchanting from the top and I could see many waterfalls in the distant, which I captured in my camera. Back in Mumbai, I went back to my neighbourhood bakery and supari stores and a kite-maker, to take photographs of the processes,” Raziya explained.

Farhat said that she was on her way to Jaipur and Ajmer the previous week and hence her photographic journey went beyond the state borders. She said that other than taking many photographs of the journey from the window, she took photographs of the two families – one Gujarati and another Muslim – who were seated on her either sides in the train. “At some stations, I noticed how people had comfortably found space to sit for the journey on the roof of the train. Not only did they have their belongings with them, but I even saw a dog travelling on the roof! When we went to the dargah in Ajmer, we weren't allowed to take the camera inside. But once I came back to Mumbai, I wanted to show through my photographs the lives of single women who manage to run their families on their shoulders. I have managed to get hold of about 2-3 women but I'm still working on it,” she said.

The circle of participants had almost ended, and the person to talk about her week was Priyanka. She said that she had gone to meet Reshma, Ayesha and Badrunissa in the compound of JJ Hospital to interview them for this project. “There was a stray dog barking aloud and other dogs followed to check on their friend. I just commented about how faithful dogs were. But Badrunissa said that men were akin to dogs. I then commented that it was wrong statement – comparing men to dogs was actually an insult to dogs, and the women couldn't stop laughing,” said Priyanka, which led into a roar of laughter among the participants.

Priyanka added that there was scooter parked in the compound and Reshma just went and sat up there. “Badrunissa decided to take her photographs but then we saw a man approach the scooter. We thought that Reshma's picnic atop the scooter had ended. But the man was kind enough to actually come to shift the scooter's side stand to the middle stand so that Reshma wouldn't fall off. We were all happy about it,” she said.

With the Ganpati celebrations keeping the city awake throughout the week, Anuja said that she had been frequenting to Dharavi to capture the mood there. She was more interested in the small Ganpati and the aarti in people's homes, no matter how small they were. “I saw two kids who were extremely poor and were living near the footpath, with just a tarpaulin sheet as their roof. Yet, even they had managed to get a small Ganpati statue, and small pieces of wood made up the tiny pandal, wherein they were conducting the aarti. They invited me to be a part of it and I felt very surreal with the entire experience. I would go to Dharavi in the morning and in the evening, I have been going to a pub called Blue Frog to shoot photographs of international artistes who were performing there,” she said.

It was then Helena's turn to speak about her past few days. All this while she had been lost in translation and she had her words translated in Hindi for the participants. “I was involved in my exhibition on my photographs of Eastern Europe. But then soon enough, it was time for me to start packing my bags to come to Mumbai for my exhibition with Sudharak,” she said.

Hasina finally got the chance to put forth many issues which had been on her mind since about two weeks. She said that she had busy the last week disciplining some women about camera distribution. “i have seen quite a few photographs taken by many participants and I have realised that while some of you have done an outstanding job, there are others who are taking this workshop very casually and this is evident in your photographs. You have been doing this workshop for quite long now, but some of you have really taken the pains to invest your time and effort into taking photographs. It is your own individual responsibility to learn well and take charge of your work. If you do not have the time or resources or the camera hasn't fallen into your hands in time, then it is all your responsibility. After all, if you create good photographs and are able to get it out onto the world based on the photograph's merit, there would be none more proud of your achievements than us,” Hasina urged.

Sudharak noted that another positive side-effect of this workshop was the developing friendship among the participants, which gave them a chance to share experiences together. “When photojournalists are in the office, there is always a sense of competition. But once we all are out on the field, there is a very healthy camaraderie among all of us. This is what was seen when Tabassum and Heena went out together and decided to raise their voiced against the man who was beating his wife. At the same time, I am glad that this workshop has instilled in you the confidence to be able to face a cop and even take his photograph. Until some time ago, your words were that you were sceptical of going on the road with the camera. Now it is your achievement that you can walk with pride with your camera in hand,” encouraged Sudharak. Hasina added that she found some of the women's participation in the gay pride march quite a positive sign.

After a brief introduction about Dilip by Sudharak, the veteran journalist went on to share some interesting anecdotes. He said that emperor Sumer, who ruled about 4,500 years ago, had made a rule in his kingdom that if a woman lived with a man for a year, she would lose her property and her rights over them. “But the women outsmarted the men – they would live with their men for 364 days and on the last day, they would go to stay at a friend's place. In that way, the women were able to be in a win-win situation – they would stay with the man of their choice, as well as not lose their property to him,” he explained, and this idea was received with a loud applause. All the participants were remarking among themselves about the wit and smartness of the women who lived many, many years before us.

Dilip also explained the meaning of the word 'economics', stating that the word was derived from the Latin words 'oikos' and 'nomos', which respectively meant 'household' and 'rules' or 'laws'. “In essence, economics means management of the house, which is and can be done only by women. Sadly enough, today, most of the well-known economists are men. There isn't a single Nobel prize winning economist who is a woman. But just imagine the city of Mumbai surviving for three months without a single woman – I doubt the city will be able to survive,” he said.

The participants all agreed that what he said was absolutely true – without women, the men would have a tough time indeed, even for their basic requirements. Dilip explained how Khalifa Haroon Rashid, a ruler who lived about 1,500 years ago, needed to hire people to manage his huge palace. “He decided to recruit women, but only after he was convinced that each of them were well-versed with the arts, sciences, history, philosophy, music and other fields. He would have the masters of each of the fields along with him when they would have to recruit a female hand to manage his palace. Such broad-minded he was and that too, so many years ago,” Dilip said.

Mexy emphasised the need for building relationships with the subject whom one is taking photographs of. “You can get good and candid photographs only when your subject is at ease with you, and he or she can be at ease with you only when you develop a rapport with them. And this rapport can be developed only when you talk to them. You cannot afford to take a photograph by not talking to the person, otherwise it will be akin to doing something intrusive,” she said.

Lima then spoke to the audience about her work, and she started off by saying that it was also essential to build a relationship with our environment. “Be it tigers or the trees, it is nice to be connected to nature. It begins with something as small as a baby leaf, whose smell is extremely beautiful. Also, every city has its own character which is best reflected in its flora and fauna. In Delhi, for every person there are 10 trees, whereas in Mumbai, for every person there is just half a square feet of green patch! In Mumbai, most of the trees are seen to be sprouting near the building pipes because of the excess moisture. It is indeed a very sad situation, when we look at the way we are treating our environment. So part of my job is to take children and teaches into the wild and enlighten them about our environment and the need to conserve it. I invite you all to come to the jungle of Ranthambore National Park in Rajasthan where my work is currently concentrated,” she said, which delighted everyone.

With this, the long chat of sharing experiences came to an end and it was time to go through the presentations of the participants. The long discussion consumed much of the time, so all were aware that the presentations of only a few participants could be viewed and analysed by Sudharak. After a quick tea break, the presentations began with Gazala, upon which Sudharak remarked that she was looking differently and that was interesting. “However, you need to focus on what you are looking and what you want to take photographs of. The initial photographs were most entertaining – we got a glimpse of your family and your immediate surroundings; we saw your story where we know we cannot have easy access. But you were in a hurry and hence some photographs were out of focus,” he said.

Next was Nilofer's presentation, and Sudharak stated that although she had good compositions and knew what she wanted in her frames, she was not steady with her camera and hence most of the photographs were very hazy. Anuja added to Sudharak's explanation, saying, “The camera and our own eye sees a certain thing differently, and it should be our effort to bridge the gap so that we can bring about a photograph of what we actually see.”

Sudharak went on to state the importance of bearing in mind some essentials of photography – composition, lighting, flash, and the comfort level with the subject. “When you leave your comfort zone, you will notice it for yourself that you begin to wander, and so does your camera. You aren't sure of what you want to capture. Even when I am in a new zone, I feel a little uncomfortable because I do not know the reactions that could follow if I take out my camera in a certain place. Hence the best way to take the perfect photographs is to focus on a subject which is closer home to us, where we find ourselves comfortable,” he explained.

The last presentation that could be on view for the session was by Paigumberi, and Sudharak congratulated her for going in the middle of the crowd during the gay pride march and taking the photograph of a filmstar (Celina Jaitely) so confidently. “You also have a good sense of timing – you know when some action is going to take place and that is when you shoot. I think if anyone has to learn about being bold is from you – you weren't afraid to be right in the centre of action among the LGBTs during the march, and you also went ahead in your own area to take the photograph of your local MLA. Just be a little patient when you take photographs so that you do not miss out on essential parts within a frame,” he said.

It was already late for the women since they had to get home well in time before they could break their fasts. It was decided that the group would meet again on September 10, 2009, at the gallery where Sudharak had put up his exhibition. They were assigned to narrow down their subjects to their personal stories about their home and immediate surrounding, because it was essential that they be in a comfortable space, which incidentally, nobody else could venture into.

September 10, 2009 (Session 9)

After a hiatus of 10 days, the participants had gathered together at Cymroza Art Gallery at Kemps Corner, as Sudharak's exhibition titled 'Coloured Worlds' along with Helena Schatzle was on display. Some of them had long arduous journeys of waiting for the others to arrive so that they could bunch together. But when they reached the art gallery, they soon became busy in viewing the photographs that were on display, while some others nudged Anuja and Mexy to download their photographs.

Finally, when the workshop session began, the participants were in for a rude shock: Sudharak told them that he had viewed their photographs and was disappointed with what they had done. “There was something particular that was expected of you all and each of you have independent way of looking at things. Some photographs taken by you seem as though they were taken by professional photographers but most others hurried a lot with taking pictures. Your own independent way of looking at the world was not evident in the second lot of photographs that you have taken. You cannot afford to be in a hurry while taking photographs. You have to be very steady and sure of the subject that you want to capture, and hence it is essential that everything is dealt with patiently. Most of your photographs have been blurred and hence I strongly suggest that nobody would now be handed the camera for one week.

With the participants feeling uneasy about getting the sudden dose of unexpected negative feedback, Ravi tried to lighten the situation in his own way. “All of us get excited when we get something new in our hands, and this has been the case even with you when you got the camera. The excitement took over the need to be calm and steady, and that did not allow for a comfortable communication flow between you and the subject. But I personally think that each of you have done a wonderful job – I am not saying this to give you a feel good factor, but your photography experience of one month is definitely commendable, as against our photography experience of 20 years! I think you should be excused for that and maybe we can ask Sudharak to forgive us for the hurry we displayed in our photographs,” he said, which eased up the participants to a great extent.

While Sudharak was a little occupied entertaining his guests who had come to see his show, the floor was left open for those women to talk about their experiences when they had come to the same gallery on the previous Friday, September 4, for the opening of Sudharak's exhibition. The participants who had attended the Friday function were Reshma, Ayesha, Farhat, Piagumberi, Raziya and Yasmin. Reshma said that this was her third trip to any art gallery ever and so the initial excitement had weaned off. “Now I know what to expect in an art gallery and I have also seen how the exhibition openings of art galleries look like. Ayesha and I had come early and we soon realised that we would have to break our Ramzan fast here, at 6.55pm. We saw a chair and thought we would sit on it for a few minutes while we broke our fast, but a beautiful bouquet of flowers were sitting pretty on it. So we let it be as it was, and went into a small corner; picked up a bottle of water and chewed on the dried dates. Later, we had a lot of snacks that were being served by the waiters. It was a very different kind of set-up for us to break our fast,” she told the others.

Paigumberi said that she was among the first to arrive on Friday and she only saw journalist Dilip Raote. "I saw some photographs clicking away and decided to do the same. Slowly people began to stroll in and and they all seemed colourful people from different walks of life. Soon there was a candle-lighting ceremony followed by Sudharak and Helena giving a short presentation. I did not understand much of what they spoke but I joined the others in clapping for them. The waiters then brought food which I was glad to have. My camera battery had also given away by then, but I saw Ayesha and Reshma walk in. So I had someone to accompany me through the evening. Reshma and I broke the fast together; I remember how we were constantly checking our watches and after we had broken the fast, we were asking the waiters each time about the content of the food that they brought in. We left the gallery at 8.30pm."

It was time again to have a short presentation of the photographs of the participants that were selected by Sudharak. Ravi said, "When you look at the photographs now, you will notice quite a difference between those that were taken in the first and second rounds. Also, when you visit a place and take photographs, there is always a feeling that you wish you had taken more photographs. That is always the case with anyone who loves to see different new things. Can anyone explain why do we go through such a feeling?"

Ayesha agreed that she too had felt the same. For her, the experience was akin to that of a mela where there is so much to see and do, and yet, later on one feels incomplete of not having done everything at the mela. Raziya reasoned this feeling to the fact that everyone knows deep in their heart that better photographs can be taken, while Farhat attributed this feeling to greed -- the need to always want more than is already achieved.

Ravi said that he once read about the need to take maximum number of photographs of a place you knew that you wouldn't be able to revisit soon. "When I had gone to McLeodganj, I wanted to take many photographs but my camera battery died mid-way. So I captured all the images that I needed in my mind's eye! But can anyone tell me how could one possibly take the maximum number of photographs of a given situation without having the hurried feel in the photographs?"

Ayesha replied that what was most needed at the time of taking the photographs was a certain kind of 'thehrao', or stillness, in us. Ravi hailed the word used by her and said that stillness for the moment was very essential so that the hurry in the photograph is not seen. Sudharak then went to show 160 photographs taken by the participants, because those revealed what caught the eye of the person who was behind the camera. "These are photographs of your lives and we want to see more of this. Your photographs reflect what you see, what you like or dislike, and what your thinking process is like. Finally, we will select just 20 best photographs taken by you. I quite enjoyed some of the photographs that you have taken -- they were fun and entertaining to look at, and it is your personal documentation that steals the show," said Sudharak, and then a series of presentations of the selected photographs followed, after which the remaining pictures to be viewed were also seen.

The gallery authorities said that the projector had to cool down for Sudharak and Helena's talk later in the evening, and so the current presentations had to be stopped. Sudharak then asked Helena, who had arrived at the gallery by then, to explain about her experience in India and how she took certain photographs. She spoke in English which was translated in Hindi by Priyanka. "I first came to Mumbai four years ago with two more friends and at that time I was looking at India as a tourist. Later I cam again and I met Sudharak, who asked me to accompany him for a project that he was doing across India. There were times when people would look at me with glaring eyes but I couldn't help it, nor could I just stop taking photographs because of them. So I had to just be confident about myself in a different country and learnt a few words of Hindi so that I could manoeuvre my way through," she meant to say.

Sudharak further elaborated that it was commendable of her that she went to live and understand the nuances of family life in India, among those whose lives she wanted to document through her camera. "She learnt a few words of Hindi to get by and did not once complain about the the mad heat – she comes from a country of sub zero temperature and in Rajasthan she did not utter a single word of complain about its temperature of 47 degree Celsius. She was entirely dedicated to her work and gave it her complete best," he said.

The evening was inching forward and the participants had to get back home, most of them before sundown so that they are on time to break their fasts. It was decided that a last session would take place at the Awaz-E-Niswaan office the following Thursday, where a consensus would be taken on the final project to be done by the women.

September 15, 2009 (Session 10)

This was to be the last session of the long workshop that had unfolded many stories of grit, determination, self-confidence and hope. The remaining photographs of the participants which had not been viewed until now, were presented. The session began with Tabassum's photographs and she was urged to talk about them. Sudharak introduced her presentation stating that she did exactly what was instructed and her photographs displayed the emotions and feelings among her family members, whose photograph she had taken during different periods of the day and week. "Both Tabassum and Heena have done excellent work with their camera and although they have both shown images of their home and family, both have different perspectives to the same topic," he said.

Tabassum said that she had the camera with her for only a single day and hence the easiest way out with her project was to to take photographs of her family. "I wanted to show what my home, my locale looks like -- how we conduct ourselves in our day-to-day lives. So i took photographs of everyone dancing suddenly when music was on and an infant who was put to sleep in a makeshift swing made of dupatta. I had some cousins visiting us and i took their photographs too," she said.

Ravi commented that the bond among her family members were evident, while according to Sudharak, Tabassum did not have to struggle a single bit to show emotions in her photographs.

Next in line was Heena, who wanted to show the interactions between her four children who were the rock to each other. "My eldest daughter almost always feeds her siblings and is already a mother figure to them. My husband had divided our house with a plank of wood and the other side of the house has been given on rent where a little girl lives. She had dressed up as Krishna's Radha for Janmasthami, but I did not have a camera with me at that time. So when I got hold of the camera, I told her mother to dress he up again and that's how I took her photograph again," Heena explained.

Next was Fatima, who was also quite determined to show her family life through her photographs. "One morning I woke up and saw that my son was sleeping with my brother. I instantly removed the camera from its case and took the photograph. I always insist my son to drink milk instead of tea, and that is when I thought that I should take his photograph, to boost him further to drink milk before he left for school. My younger sister also finishes her work early in the morning with quite a hurry because she has to reach her workplace. Mornings are quite swift at home and that is what I wanted to show through my photographs. My youngest brother is very religious and is not in much favour of photography and any media. So I had to take his photograph very discreetly," she said.

Fatima added that she always had her camera strung around her neck and that she was eagerly waiting for her other son to get home from hostel so that she could take photographs of her children playing and talking.

Sudharak remarked that all of us intended to take photographs of the outside world, but we hardly ever realised that our home by itself was one of the best grounds for getting the most beautiful photographs. "Taking family photographs is also like documenting history. You can only imagine how your son will feel when he sees the photographs of him eating pav and milk in the morning before school, when he is about 30 years old," he said.

Farhat remarked that although Ramzan was a season of observing austerity in all forms, her family was observing, although with no intention of malice, that she was indulging in much more frivolity with her camera!

The photograph of a balloon-seller was taken by Shabeena, which prompted Sudharak to rightly comment that even if the man's face is not visible, the balloons he carry are enough to spread joy. "I also wanted to show how my mohalla looks. There was a little girl who insisted that I take her photograph and she followed me till my house, just so that I oblige her. My uncle's children were visiting us and I took out my camera. My mother said that I should let them get properly dressed do that they appear neat in the photographs. I rubbished what she had to say and told her that I would take their photographs just as they were. Besides, I love to watch the TV serial 'Balika Vadhu' and hence took some snapshots from TV when the show was on," Shabeena explained.

The shy Shabeena had also taken photographs of a rusted autorickshaw which looked more a like person's face. She also took a photograph of a public bathroom which had white tiles and a white wash basin. Her rationale to take the photograph was that the whiteness of the entire situation appealed to her. Paigumberi, who was then sitting next to her, commented that she was taking photographs of just anything that she saw and that it wouldn't be a surprise if she had taken the photographs of a toilet. "If I feel the need to, then I will surely take the photograph of a toilet. What is wrong with that?" Shabeena retorted.

A shorter presentation then followed which was some photographs selected by Anuja – they included photographs of visuals seen outside and inside the house. Gazala had taken the photograph of her neighbour who was pregnant, and Sudharak told her that she should focus on the woman as her final project. He added, "All of your final photo stories will revolve around you. You can choose topics like single women running their households, women breaking traditional barriers to study and have a career, etc. These are topics that you could think of, within the available realm of your life and immediate neighbourhood. Some other topics that you could work on are poverty, illiteracy, domestic violence, health, gender, living and sanitation conditions, the purdah system, divorce, etc."

Farhat said that she was angry about the way Muslim women are perceived and she wanted to break away from those notions. "I have endured pain personally and know what it feels to emerge successful after all of it. So I am sure that we will pull this project through, positively. In the course of this workshop, all of us had a chance to see many many photographs. We also saw some photographs of Muslim women in their stereotypical attire. It is we who can break those notions through our photographs, and personally rebuild our lives by breaking away from those ideas. We have to make our own image, about ourselves and tell the world that we are just like anyone else."

Ravi concluded the session with the example of a butterfly. "A beautiful butterfly is born only from the tiny larva. The birth process is not one of ease -- the butterfly has to struggle quite a bit so to be able to finally emerge from the larva. Some scientists were once trying to ease the process of the butterfly's birth, by opening up the hole of the larva. The butterflies thus born were not as beautiful as the ones which had struggled to get out. Our lives are just like that the struggling butterfly, waiting to be born beautiful," he said.

Everyone present at that moment in the Awaz-E-Niswaan office sat together is a huge circle and played a refreshing and energising game of antakshari. Some were dinging, while some others joined in the revelry of being together and working towards one goal – of becoming independent and free of any hurt and pain, but hoping for more such fun-filled days in their lives.

Internalising violence

Heena is like most other 30-something woman -- married with children, working in a small time organisation, and trying hard to make ends meet especially with a husband who enjoys getting violent. We just knew that this was a similar pattern among the women of Awaz-E-Niswaan, the organisation that was helping Muslim women to fight back. But Heena's warm laughter about her situation putrefacted my gut.

Heena has four children -- the eldest is a 12-year-old girl and the youngest is a two-year-old toddler. Her husband has no fixed job while she works in an office to bring in the dough every evening for her children. Her husband doesn't want her. He has already divorced her. Now he wants the house -- a tiny matchbox room -- to himself. So he doesn't shy away from going to any extremes to get Heena and the children out of the house. Heena has suffered his kicks, slaps, thuds for 14 years. Her eldest daughter is already a terrified soul.

But Heena won't leave the house. "He married me, bore me four children. I wouldn't ask 'where am I to go?' because I know that me and my children have equal right to safe shelter."

Behind her high-powered lens, one cannot miss Heena's beautiful eyes. Her husbands also admits to that fact and that was the most-recent cause of their squabble, which left a deep scab below Heena's right eye. "How dare you ahev such beautiful eyes? How dare men look at your eyes directly? You must be the one who seduce them!" and thud! he banged her eye but missed it by an inch.

"I picked up the bamboo and hit him back that day -- the first time ever in the 14 years of cohabitation," says Heena, as she lets out her ferocious laughter before us. "i should have picked up the bamboo or even an iron rod many years earlier, but now, I am also always eyeing the gutter below my house. Next time he decides to pounce on me, i Know where to push him," she says confidently.

Ask the five-feet tall Heena if she could really do that, and she says that nothing would now stop her from doing so. I smile, and ask, "How tall is your marad?"

"He is bulky -- but I will kick him."

I sigh; I am left wondering; I am only praying.

I am pulled out of my moment's prayers when I see her pointing towards her thigh rather animatedly, I regain my composure, rub my hands so as not to feel my goosebumps, but her words defeat my curdling of blood -- "He once stabbed a knife into my thigh! Can you believe it?" and she laughs as though it was the best-laid practical joke. Only, it is on herself and her married life, and she has internalised the joke.

"He throws the cooked food and my friend Tabassum, who keeps a tab on my children, calls me to report this."

"What do you do then?"

"I buy andaa pav...I can afford that for sure for my children."

Heena laughs through each of her statement. I smile, not knowing that as my lips curve, she receives the impetus to go on and on to give me more examples of the way he tortures her, which she narrates rather vividly. Is she glad to be able to spill it all out? Has she already gone past those ideas of covering up? Or is she merely entertaining my evening with her gory narratives, to which I can do nothing but only feign a smile?

RED

What is the taste of red?

What is the smell of red?

The morning sun

The bright bedbug

The liquid rust in our arteries

The delicious strawberries

The velvety rose

The come, they live, they go

Brighten

Jolt

Blush

Cheer

Satiate

But lips? No, they are different

Lips utter, but they contemplate kiss

Lips kiss, but they contemplate fuck

Lips fuck, but they contemplate words

Lips sip, but they contemplate chew

– Just another soft cragged range

of our anatomy

with no mind of its own.

Why can’t they be red?

Why can’t they just be?

Red is red – for now

Red is pink – yesterday

Red is scarlet – tomorrow

But today, it rejoices being red

Why can’t lips be red – today?

To brighten

To jolt

To blush

To cheer

To satiate

And more –

Utter

Kiss, kiss

Fuck

Utter

Sip

Chew

Why can’t today – only today – be red?

Why can’t red – only today –be your lips?

Why can’t red – only today –be my lips?

Neruda's words

Pablo Neruda has intrigued many with the way he weaves through his poem through words. Words are his tools; words are his air that he breathes; words are the sand grains that he walks past; words are the rain drops that wake up the dead Earth beneath his feet, leaving them colourful.

In his memoirs, which is often touted to be his best literary work, Neruda talks about his love for words, and with love, he presents to our mind's eye the beauty whom he never ceased to love, and the way he would love to love those words. Here are Neruda's own words:

"You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend . . . I bow to them . . . I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down . . . I love words so much . . . The unexpected ones . . . The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop . . . Vowels I love . . . They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are foam, thread, metal, dew . . . I run after certain words . . . They are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem . . . I catch them in midflight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives . . . And I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them, I let them go . . . I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves . . . Everything exists in the word . . ."

Why is it then so difficult for us too to fall in love this way with words? Why are we sometimes waiting for moments when we could be possessed by a desire to do something to those words, with those words? Why do we wait for an inspiration, a revelation, a premonition, an admonition -- why do we wait for an idea to seize us so that we can seize words?