‘It is something about terraces, open spaces that is often underrated’
‘It is something about terraces, open spaces that is often underrated’ The sign board subtly displayed the directions that lead to the rooftop room, once again the confusion and anxiety storming deep within. Following the click and clack of the black formal shoes, our eyes quickly tried to adjust to the wide clear sky’s daylight. As the eagerness sang and murmured in my head, the brilliant blue painted my face with colours of soothing breeze. It was not long before the girls of the group started conversing, already acquainted with each other. I had missed on the opportunity; paying the price of joining a week late. I sat quietly outside the room patiently listening to the young boy dressed in blue Indian formals. Most of what he said was about strings, guitar and he was with another girl who seemed to be interested in music too.
The professor walked in and soon we were asked to remove our shoes, just when I was getting used to wearing those black formal shoes. Following a little momentary chaos of getting inside that little chamber, everyone was seated comfortably, some on the stools and some on the floor.
After the initiation and catching up on what I had missed out in the last lecture, it was soon told that this might actually be the first time we will be developing photographs. Hearing the same, everything was still. The constant murmuring of the people around me was no more so prominently heard, my heart and mind somehow indulged into a very passionate conversation. The excitement infused in and the little child inside performed several somersaults at the mere prospect of doing what we were about to do. While all this could be processed, the lights were turned off and the red bulbs shone dimly, transporting us into a trance of wealthy darkness and what it had to offer us. The process began, I had chosen a picture of wine bottles for myself preventing light from sabotaging the procedure. The rest was magic!
On the paper and in Life, Mr. Magician waved his wand
There were blots of black on the paper, darkness of truth and realities of life I could never swallow
Then there were darkest of greys, telling me of how neutrality and numbness mattered
Lighter grey brought with it the shapes, clarity in terms of the dirt and lies; like having a thousand eyes.
And then magically appeared all the whites, how cracks and crevices of the broken soul let the light enter;
And the spell was cast and it all made sense, not my life;
But Oh! The wine bottles in the photograph showed their presence.
The first photograph that I developed, I proudly carried around in my hand, showing off the jewel in my crown. Often anxiety, fear, lack of confidence and depression gloomily make their homes in the darkest spaces of our mind and soul; except the technical skills of working in a dark photography lab involved, this experience was an eye opener to a beautiful fact that darkness is an enigmatic place to be in. The wand is in our hands, to achieve that perfect picture of success all we need to do is just wave that wand. Magic happens in darkness, colours most playfully change their colours; they come out of disguise.
Article by: Yogyata Joshi (Batch of 2019)
Photography by: Akhil Reddy (Batch of 2019)