Delhi Haat INA
Curious gazes
Chits on the floor
What’s the colour for today?
Is it blue or yellow?
1,2,3… I count
4,5,6 whispers are loud.
But,
16 is our number now.
And so the destination for the first photowalk of the year was Pink Line, 16th Station - Dilli Haat INA. Travelling through ten stations, we arrived at our destination. We clubbed ourselves into groups and began the search for picturesque frames.
As creative as we could get, we also had ground rules: no clicking pictures of the same subject by everyone; asking for consent when clicking portraits of people; and the trickiest bit—checking for priced mirrors for pictures (we still nonchalantly managed to smuggle a few mirror selfies for free; wouldn’t be a successful photowalk if we didn’t have fun like that).
Photographs are the way to the unheard narratives. It wasn’t just a bunch of photos but a bundle of memories. At every step, we saw a new story. Some were sweet; some were serene.
How beautiful humans are,
Shining in the golden rays of the sun,
They weave their stories, they leave their glitter as traces.
And so we take the photographs to capture that glitter because even in the crowd, every human being shines in their unique way.
Everything being sold was sold as “good for gifts”. It’s beautiful to think that people who browse through those handbags, earrings, handmade notebooks, and shawls do it with a person in their mind. They shop selflessly, with love. The slice of our photo albums from that day—they were shot selflessly, with love, too—narrating a story separate from self, attached to the narrative.
With the crowd
We all moved along
Leaving behind thousands of people.
Smiles on our faces,
The camera still in our hands,
How could we not have our own memories printed in different colours of love, friendship and hope?
So we all gather around, smiling like fools
Maybe someone cracked a joke
Or maybe we truly are fools.
With the shutter of the camera, we say our goodbyes
Everyone moves in a different direction but now,
The strings of our memories attach us.
Bringing us all back to the time when we were at 16th Station of Pink Line—
A time we will always look back on when we think about memories we made in college.
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