River, Giver

I was 15 (1951), and was crossing the Hooghly River from Dakshineshwar to Belur Mutt, Calcutta. We were four or five classmates, and I was much pampered captain, monitor.

One of my friends had a newly-bought Arriflex double-lens reflex camera, and he didn't know how to use the levers for aperture, shutter speed, distance, and speed of the film (which was at that time denoted in DIN, as opposed to ASA, which took over in the '70s). I did not know what double-lens reflex meant, or viewfinder, or SLR.

My attention was mostly on the majhi, the owner of the boat, and his son. They were rowing us diagonally across the river, a distance of about a mile, for Rs. 4.

I was poor, my school education coming from scholarship and free books, and also love and respect from teachers and headmaster. I have often wondered, as I have grown up, if I really deserved so much that I received from them.

Coming back to the journey and the camera and the friend, he wanted me to inaugurate it by taking the first picture, and to tell him, not about the mechanics, but about how and with what in mind, or in my eyesight, I composed my pictures, especially since I had no camera of my own. I started explaining balances, sky, water, and took two or three pictures. This is one of them. 

The reason for my writing this introduction is less about the quality of the picture, the ability and objectivity to judge which I have lost; but mostly because of the fascination that engaged me during that journey, about the lives of the father and son. They had a little home on the boat itself, with a hanging hurricane lamp, a hookah, and some cooking pots and pans, but most importantly, there was contentment on their faces. I envied them then; I still envy them, not to mention how much I rue having lost that time of my life.

Woh kaaghaz ki kashti

Woh baarish ka paani

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Bhashwati wrote:

Two sons and a mother.

Static and dynamic

Angles and curves, 

Wood and flesh. 

Force and flow

Toil and ease

Time and life

limbs and oars

Of bonds and bondage

a moment an eternity

pause, continuum

breathe cease

Sthitpragya
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Charu wrote:

This is a lovely picture apart from being nostalgia inducer. 

I look at the picture and see how the oily lithe dark bodies of rowers are captured. They glow. Father keeping an eye on the son and son watching father's back literally and perhaps figuratively. There is a sense on son's face that he is doing all okay by his father. It drips with care between them. 

Oh, Calcutta! (not the movie, I am sure)