The Photograph

A photograph as we all know is a record of a happening which is preserved for posterity. Family photographs fit this bill perfectly. It was very normal in most Indian households to have the family photographs framed and displayed. The photos were mainly captured when the whole family met at the time of a wedding or other auspicious occasions. In most of the photographs, all the members are dressed in their Sunday’s best. There was a period when these photographs were pulled down and stored in the attics. Now people seemed to have realized their value and once again the photographs are out in the open for all to view.

It was the summer of 1991 and it was a very special one for my family. This was the first time that the whole family meaning the three sisters with their spouses and Father and Mother were together under one roof. It was also the first time that my parents were making a trip abroad. Much as I had wanted them to come and visit me in Saudi Arabia, it was not possible due to government restrictions. Latha was in Manchester, England and obtaining a visa was far simpler. The first leg of their journey was to Bahrain, were Kumar and I joined them. We were in Al Khobar at that time and had to just drive on the causeway. It made us happy that they could at least travel in our car. I accompanied them to the UK and later Kumar joined us. Geetha and Unni were stationed in Brussels and they took a week’s break and came over to Manchester. The last reason for elation was the fact that Latha was in the family way and the next generation of Variyath/Hebbar was on the way. All this must have gone through my mother’s mind, for out of the blue she said that we needed to take a family portrait. A lot of deliberation went into the subject and we decided we would go ahead with her thinking. There were cries of not having formal wear and proper shoes to pose in a portrait. Since the venue was England, we had to dress accordingly!!!

Latha fixed an appointment for a Monday at a studio in Timperley which was 2 miles from her house. On Saturday we came to know that she would be on call and hence there was a possibility that she may not be able to make it for the schedule. This upset my mother the most. Unlike in India were the neighbour would just come across and click a couple of pictures, this was not possible in the UK. Our worry was short lived because our friends from Birmingham called up to say that they would visit us on Sunday afternoon and would join us for dinner that day. So it was decided that we would get Mb to click a few pictures, just in case the portrait session did not happen on Monday. Being the unofficial cook at all the family gatherings outside India, I made some lamb biriyani for lunch hoping to carry it over for dinner. After a sumptuous meal of beer and biriyani, the men had just gone in for an afternoon nap, when the bell rang beckoning Mb’s arrival. He being more of professional on these matters said that the picture had to taken right away as the sunlight was perfect. He gave a well known lecture about the English weather. So with sleep written all over the face all of us got into whatever finery was available and arranged the seats on the patio and Mb clicked on three cameras as if there was no tomorrow.

Monday dawned and Latha could make it to the studio on time. We were in the same outfits as in the previous session and the professional being what he is got us to juggle around until he got the best pose. A couple of days later Geetha and I walked the distance to the studio to collect the proofs. The result was to all our liking and we zeroed in one particular picture and got the same enlarged. This picture finds a pride of place in all our homes. Had we procrastinated, and waited for the next occasion, I think it would have never happened. The truth is that in the next 18 years the eight of us were together only on two occasions and both were not conducive to take a family portrait.

Every time I look at the picture I treat it as history. To me it is one of a kind and something that can never ever be reproduced.

PS. Much as the family makes fun of me and calls me “Japanese”, I never miss clicking a picture. The things we take for granted may turn out to be just a fleeting moment.