The Unclicked Pics!

I never click any pics. I never carry a camera with me anywhere, nor my finger ever goes on my mobile.

I neither like clicking, nor getting clicked. The last time I allowed someone to take my pic was when they made my Aadhar card. (And the results were discouraging enough to make me continue my aversion for the camera.)

Actually, my laziness in operating the click-button, not possessing a selfie-stick, not having the patience to operate one, not having the will to carry a camera, and things like these help me savour the beauty of the moment and store it forever.

Whenever I get to see a snow covered mountain, a full blossomed chinar tree, colourful butterflies around, or tidal waves at sea, I just stand still, breathe in the scene, savour each moment and the scene gets etched in my memory forever. I do not prefer my eyes to be covered with lenses of any kind.

I don’t possess a selfie-stick, not the skill to operate one. The only sticks am good with, are fried potato sticks which I can gobble up a hundred in a few seconds. I plan to stick to my sticky resolution of not buying a selfie stick ever.

Come our annual vacation, and my wife ensures that our 30 Megapixel, high quality CMOS sensor, 20x optical zoom Canon is placed first in the travel-bag before I get a chance to place my humble pair of trousers there. She may forget to take along her toothbrush but never the camera.

The camera occupies quite a good space in our bag. That tiny yet mighty device is far richer in accessories than me. It has got a set of zoom lenses, spare batteries, data cable, memory-cards, hand-stand, tripods, carrying case and what not. Compare it with me who has got just a watch and a wallet to call as accessories. Actually, I feel pixelled (belittled) in front of the camera.

Then on that day of our jungle safari, as our jeep moved closer to the tree, we suddenly noticed a full grown Cheetah occupying the lowermost branch. His shiny skin and big, strong body emanated grace. All lenses and a pair of eyes (mine) turned towards him. I kept watching hypnotised, unaware of the clicking sounds around me, as he jumped off the branch gracefully and started walking majestically towards the bushes. For a moment, he turned back and our eyes met. He maintained the eye contact for a full half minute, as if acknowledging the appreciation in my eyes, then walked away confidently behind the bushes. Perhaps mine were the only pair of human eyes he got a chance to make contact with.

A year after, my wife was browsing through various folders in her laptop to locate the Cheetah pics to show off to her visiting friend but wasn’t able to locate. Sitting beside, I started narrating the scene beginning from the moment we first noticed him on the tree, how he jumped off and strode gracefully, his muscular body and the calm and confidence in his eyes. As I finished, she said, “Wow, you remember it so well, and your narration reproduced the picture for me”.

“Because I saw it with my own eyes honey, and didn’t allow the camera to see it for me. That’s why,” I said.  

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