The photographer. I remember seeing a hoarding daily that read "Sachi Studio" on the roadside through the window of our school bus. Nothing was special except for the face of Mohanlal drawn on that hoarding which made this one stand a foot forward in my mind among other scores of hoardings I see during those days.
Few years passed when one day I saw the wedding DVD of my cousin brother that was made in a quite impressive way. And Mohanlal's face on that hoarding flashed in my psyche once again when the credits read "Sachi". I was surprised. It did not cost me another moment to fix him to shoot my sister's wedding. Impressive. That would be just an understatement about this man's eye.
Since then, Sachi was 'the' official DOP of all our family events. A matching frequency which I valued the most in any relation/friendship was too quick to develop between us. Without teaching me anything he became my Guru in photography.
March 6th, 2014: The phone call bearing the news of Sachi’s demise flew into my ears and was transformed to a cold numbness from my head to toe. I had to struggle a bit to break the ice in my throat to let my voice come out and respond to the call.
The surprise element was more than my consciousness to deal with. He is survived by his wife and a daughter. Over the years, Anju Chechy had become as dear to us as Sachi chettan and for their daughter Kichu, she became my little sister with a dear daughterly affection. I purposefully delayed visiting them until today. Just a dumb feeling that he would still be alive for a week more in my immature mind. Literally dumb. I visited them today. Still immature to register his death in my gray cells.
May the Spirits they pray to gift them strength to stand up and walk down the long lane.
I have read a quote of Mr. Paulo Coelho; “I write to empty my mind”. Mine is still not empty. One more soul added to the ‘will miss’ list.
Few years passed when one day I saw the wedding DVD of my cousin brother that was made in a quite impressive way. And Mohanlal's face on that hoarding flashed in my psyche once again when the credits read "Sachi". I was surprised. It did not cost me another moment to fix him to shoot my sister's wedding. Impressive. That would be just an understatement about this man's eye.
Since then, Sachi was 'the' official DOP of all our family events. A matching frequency which I valued the most in any relation/friendship was too quick to develop between us. Without teaching me anything he became my Guru in photography.
March 6th, 2014: The phone call bearing the news of Sachi’s demise flew into my ears and was transformed to a cold numbness from my head to toe. I had to struggle a bit to break the ice in my throat to let my voice come out and respond to the call.
The surprise element was more than my consciousness to deal with. He is survived by his wife and a daughter. Over the years, Anju Chechy had become as dear to us as Sachi chettan and for their daughter Kichu, she became my little sister with a dear daughterly affection. I purposefully delayed visiting them until today. Just a dumb feeling that he would still be alive for a week more in my immature mind. Literally dumb. I visited them today. Still immature to register his death in my gray cells.
May the Spirits they pray to gift them strength to stand up and walk down the long lane.
I have read a quote of Mr. Paulo Coelho; “I write to empty my mind”. Mine is still not empty. One more soul added to the ‘will miss’ list.
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