Portrait of a Woman

I am feeling nostalgic today while knotting the tie in front of the mirror. The image in the mirror was of an old man wary of the world; with wrinkles of experience on his face.

This tie was presented to me by my wife on our first marriage anniversary, when I was just starting my career in photography. And today I am the judge of the most prestigious photography competition in the country. But I am all alone; There is no one to share my success with.

My story is one of those rags to riches story. I was a small town guy, and photography was my passion. Long before I had a camera, I visualized a photograph in my mind from everything I saw. I was always looking for proper angle and light. I had stopped enjoying the scenery or anything beautiful unless it had a photographic value in my eyes. Very soon I bought my first camera and then onwards I wanted to become a photographer and nothing else.

Photography was a new concept then, and to become a professional photographer was unheard of. The only person who encouraged me through those hard times was my high school sweetheart, Jane. She was a very ordinary girl but had a depth of understanding and long sight that was quite extra-ordinary. Very soon after school we got married. Everyone thought we were too young to be married, but we were in love and we knew that was what we wanted.

The shrill ring of the mobile phone cut into my reverie.

“Hello”
“Sir your car has arrived.” The voice from the other end informed me.
“Thanks, I will be right there.” I am back to reality. I have duties to attend to.

I looked at the mirror for the last time, pulled the tie once more and headed for the door. A huge limousine was waiting for me to take me to the venue where the awards ceremony was to take place.

It was a long journey amidst the rush hour of the city, and I fell back on the sit to resume my reflections on life.

After marrying Jane, I continued my studies and she was working in various shifts to maintain the house. I completed my studies and had become a specialist in portrait photography. Very soon I started doing the photo shoots with different models. I would get so involved with the whole thing that I would forget that Jane was waiting for me at home. But she never complained.

I became very famous after a doing a portrait of an old actress who had refused to pose for anyone else. That was a big achievement in the photographers circle. Back then I was a very charming guy who could convince anyone except my wife. She had a different way of thinking and could see right through my motives.

After a few more of the portraits of the leading ladies of that time, I decided that it was time for me to do my own exhibition. I told my idea to Jane and she became quite excited about it.

I gave my full attention to the project; it demanded almost all our saved money and every waking hour of my day. And patiently Jane stood by me all the time. She supported me, even helped me with selecting a few of the final portraits that were to go on to the exhibition.

The limousine stopped and the door opened. I was jerked out of my day dream. I had gone back to twenty-five years ago, when my life was everything I had wanted it to be.

Bright lights flashed and I was surrounded by reporters throwing innumerable questions at me without a pause. I was ushered into the big hall where once I had my own exhibition, that had earned me the name and fame, I had always dreamed of.

The final 15 photos were hung in the inner gallery and the rest were displayed in the outer gallery. There were six other judges for this contest; we all knew each other from staying in long association in the same profession, though I was a decade older to the others. They are still in business while I have retired a few years back. Now I only judge the work of others and look back at my works.

As soon as we entered the inner gallery, we were left alone, because this part will not be open for public before the winners are announced. We were served champagne and caviar, we started to relax.

“After a long time we all are together without competing against each other” I mused out loud.

There was appreciative laugh from the other judges.

“Yes now its time for us to give way to the younger generation, some are novices but very talented nevertheless”, Jim, my oldest friend in this profession observed.

At this sentence we all stood up to perform our sacred duties as a judge. There are seven of us specializing in different forms of photography and we all will give marks to the fifteen photos; the best photographer will be awarded the title of “Photographer of the Year”, a very prestigious title in our circle.

I started with the nearest photo of a sea in turmoil. It was a beautifully shot picture. The light, the angle, the play of the waves caught in the frame with perfection. I put in the marks of 7.5 and moved on to another. There were photos of every genre and it was a treat to my ageing eyes.

In the exhibition that I organised 23 years ago, a photo had won me this prestigious title of “Photographer of the Year”. But an incident that happened during the exhibition had ruined my life forever.

I was so enthusiastic of wining the accolade and the competition that I wanted to give each and every photo my best. Suddenly I was struck with the idea that I will take a photo of Jane and show the world my talent as a photographer, who can change the face of an ordinary girl into a beauty.

Jane opposed the idea vehemently; she refused to become the subject of my photography. But the idea was raging inside me and I had to put it in action. I didn’t bother to listen to the logic, I took it as her doubt on my talent that I wasn’t capable of changing an ordinary thing into a thing of beauty with my photography.

So from the next day onwards, I brought my studio home. I got all my assistants together and discussed the idea with them, they all thought it was a fantastic idea. I hired make-up artists and brought them home. They were not very enthusiastic after looking at Jane, and she understood their reluctance. But I didn’t listen, I put them to work instantly.

They worked long and hard, Jane sat their without any emotion, letting them do whatever they wanted to her face and hair. I went on outlining the ideas to my assistants and when she was ready she was brought to the sets. She looked pretty but not herself anymore. She looked like a caked doll. She had lost all her natural look.

I started photographing her in different moods, different angles, and lights. I put in all that I have learnt so far, but never achieved the result. By the end of the day I was getting frustrated at the failure. And then I said the unthinkable.

“What was I thinking!! You can never look beautiful enough for a photograph, I should have hired some model for this shoot.”

“That’s what I had suggested.” Replied Jane quietly.

“Shut up and get out of my sight, I can’t imagine how I married an ugly creature like you.”

And that was it.

Jane stood up and was gone in a flash. By the time I wrapped up my studio and let all the people out of our house, Jane had left me.

I could not accept the fact that Jane had left me. My ego was hurt and I decided not to contact her. If she wants to come back she would have to do it on her own accord. I got busy with my exhibition.

Coming back to present I realised that I had seen almost all the photos but one. And suddenly I was in front of a photograph which was a bolt from the blue. There in front of me was a portrait of Jane sitting by a window, as if waiting for someone to return. She looked old but beautiful and the emotion in her face was caught so perfectly by the photographer that it was the finest piece of portrait I had ever seen. Everyone else was talking about the brilliance of the photographer who could turn such an ordinary woman into a masterpiece.

I remembered the day of my exhibition here when she had come to meet me for the last time. She had the divorce papers in her hands. My world was shattered on the day of my biggest achievement. I had won a prize for a portrait but I lost my wife, the only woman I had ever loved. Today after so many years I was seeing her once again but in a different way.

I was called to give my score card. I gave a full 10 to this picture, and returned the score card to the organisers and sat down with a glass of champagne. I wanted to meet the photographer and know all about Jane. I had the sudden mad urge to see Jane and ask  for her forgiveness. Tell her how much I loved her and that I want her back in my life.

The announcement of the winning photograph was made in a loud voice and the portrait of Jane had won by a huge margin. A handsome guy came forward to collect the award. I went to meet him eagerly.

“Hi, I am Joseph,” I introduced myself.

“I know,” said the boy, and he looked at me. The eyes of Jane staring back at me. I was shocked.

“Congratulations, this is a great achievement for you.” I spluttered to gain some composure back.

“It’s a tribute to my mother, who taught me that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.”

Before I could say anything he turned back and vanished among the crowd. And I stared after in him.

(words:1756)