The Delhi Chapter : Page 38

Day 2 resembled one of those perfect, bright days that have an air of positivity about them.

As I reached, both guards greeted me.

One of them politely swiped me in.

  

It was 9.20 AM by my watch.

Inside, it felt like there was order in the world.

[ Because no one was retarded enough to step in that early. ]


****

So an empty 8th floor.

What a treat to explore.

It would be, I thought to myself.

I plonked my laptop on my desk and hurriedly heaved out my DSLR from another jhola (a bottle green Khari printed one; which I'd picked up one time at the Kalaghoda Festival that happened in February once every year in Bombay).

Photography and cameras were something that always hoisted my interest.

Right from the time that I was little.

And Photo Journalism being a part of my post-graduation in Sophia (Mumbai) among the many other streams of Media, was the perfect excuse to burn an embarrassingly large hole in my dad's wallet, and buy one of those overpriced Digital cameras to flash around everywhere.

[ Whether I'd learnt even a thing about Photography in college, was well, a different question. ]

But even if I didn't have a drop of dexterity, when standing behind the lens.

I always still preferred being the photographer.

Better than being the shot.

So I started scrambling around the place slowly.
Wolfing down it's every detail.

Pictures, post-cards, comic strips, toys-cars.

Mugs, highlighters, lamps and dolls.

Doodles, posters, witty one liners.

Marble-paper kites, constellation of ads.

Files of empty bottles drained to the dregs.

Now giving life to little green saplings.

Some of these objects were just so incredibly arresting, I often forgot to click pictures...