PicturePosted: June 25, 2010
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But I believe a picture doesnt capture the full picture, if you know what I mean. Or maybe that doesnt make sense. So you could say that a camera cant take a picture anywhere close to a human eye. And I am not talking about the visual aspect of the picture. What else is there? Well, there is a lot more behind the picture which the camera cannot catch. Maybe this is about the thoughts and feelings that you have when you behold the panorama.
Why am I writing about this? No reason per se. Just wanted to write, over a beer or two or three (maybe more, but then only maybe, or then … well, well …), some things that I think. Maybe someone someday would read them, and share the feelings I feel. The other day I had taken a short walk from the hotel to the beach early in the morning. When I say early, I mean early. Quite early. The walk took me to the sea-shore on a morning before the sun made his presence felt. The breeze was cool, carrying a hint of the rain from the night. The sea was, as always, mighty. There were waves painting a pretty picture on the canvas of the sea, orchestrated by the rocks, accompanied by the now softly floating clouds, giving just a hint of the refreshing rain. Feeding the dance of the waves was the serenity of the deep sea, ever so calm, changing every moment, yet remaining the same. And the depth of the sae reaching out to the ever unreachable horizon stertching its arms to reach out.
All of this created a beautiful panorama only punctuated by a few ships doing what ships do on the high seas. It was a picture which was so beautiful it captivated the sense. And I reached out to the camera to capture this beauty. Only thing, right after clicking the picture, I tried to view it, and it was a disappointment. Was this the beauty I saw? I looked back at the original, and the beauty was still the way it was a moment ago, but somehow the camera couldnt quite get it.
This reminded me of a vacation in the hills of Uttar Pradesh and the view from the guest house. The guest house was perched at the edge of a hill, and had it not been for the old world solidity of the building, I would have thought that a slightly strong gust of wind would have pushed it over. The advantage of it being located where it was, was the uninterrupted view it gave. Its been more than ten years. Its been maybe twenty years, but the view is still very much fresh to the mind’s eye. Rows on rows of hills, emerald splendour, shining in the glory of the autumn sun. Valleys becoming hills, and the hills becoming valluys again, almost as far as the eye could see. Why I say almost is because in the distance green gave way to white as the hills gave way to the majestic mountains, the emerald of the chinars giving way to the pristine purity of the snow. The hills looked like a large handkerchief ( or a crumpled carpet) thrown carelessly on the floor by the Divine Hand, crumpled in a way that created a beauty beyond compare. The white was a carpet spread out to remind arid humanity of the beauty God has filled the world with. The undulating greens giving way to the white sheet. The colours shimmering in the sunlight, creating a panorama of sheer beauty.
Complementing this were the now sparse now dense tufts of cotton flowing past in the autumn sky, carried along by a gentle breeze. I remember having taken a picture (those days there werent digital cameras but good old photography), and when the photographs got developed, when I was seeing them, I couldnt recognize the picture as the panorama which I had so admired.
And thats what I am trying to write here. That the camera takes the picture, but the beauty of the picture is in the eyes, recorded by the mind, and the eyes see and the mind remembers this beauty much more than the camera can.