India Eyes Wide Open-Part Dho

In June 2001, I boarded a Lufthansa flight to New Delhi. That was the year I graduated from the University of Maryland after completing my undergraduate degree. Four years of un-chaperoned exposure to the real world had accelerated my growth. Seventeen sheltered years at home left me unprepared for the wild and turbulent ride that was my college years.

With encouragement from my parents to go visit family and from my own desire to re-locate myself in the places that have produced meaning in my life, I packed my suitcase and went for a month long trip in essence to find myself all over again. While the family I would visit would be an integral part to understanding me, I felt that I had to reconnect to the land through another medium. I took a journal and an old camera.

The journal was useful and non-controversial. I recorded my thoughts on what I saw, felt and heard. Sometimes, even today I visit those old chai stained pages and think back to the naivet� and the sophistication of my musings. The Nikon I had with me, however, was useful but it definitely stirred up emotions in me and those around me. I have never thought about the camera the same way again.

While part of the trip was to rediscover and rejuvenate relationships from the past, I also desired to see those relationships and the land of my ancestors through a myriad of lenses, speaking literally and figuratively. One of the most important parts of that trip was getting to know Cousin D all over again. We were childhood buddies and now my trip gave us the opportunity to develop a real friendship, which we did.

Knowing that I have always wanted to see the hill stations of the Himalayan ranges, D organized a trip. I, D, and a friend of his piled into his car and listened to my tape of Travis. I listened and they suffered. Initially the roads were the usual city roads with scooters and buses elbowing their way past. Then we were on traditional highways and eventually as we neared the mountains we began the hair-pin bends at ridiculously high elevations. And along the way we began talking about the pictures I was taking of India, or what I considered India.

D’s friend asked me “What do you see through that lens that is so special?” I thought he was being cheeky and blew him off. At that time the weight of the question did not sink in. Maybe he was being cheeky. I don’t know. But I do know that the camera has a unique power to alter the dynamics of any situation instantaneously. I don’t speak for all photographers when I say this but on that trip the camera put a lot of distance between me and my homeland. A camera can intrigue the people around you and some may even want to pose but I also found that many found it intrusive. And that was not the intention of the trip.

Before I offend the professional and recreational photographers out there, I just want to clarify that I love pictures and capturing moments as well. But in that moment when I desired closeness and also the ability to later evoke those feelings, I noticed that the camera was sometimes an un-welcomed guest. The thing about the camera is that it is really a question of representation. And sometimes I wonder if it can do it accurately. The coral reefs can captivate someone’s imagination through a picture but it can take someone’s breath away in real life. But not all of us will get to experience it in real life so a picture can be powerful. But what happens when a picture presents a young Afghan girl on National Geographic. Her turquoise eyes liquid and unreadable. Who is she? What is her name? And does she even want to be the poster child for the state of Afghanistan?

What I really wanted was an intimacy with that part of the Earth that I first walked with my bare feet on as a child. But I felt like I took it away by putting a camera in front of my face. Maybe I was scared by the visceral way in which the senses are activated. Maybe I was not ready for the intimacy. But thinking back the truth is I just wanted to be able to remember when I got back to the States.

I did leave with renewed relationships with cousins and new kurtis but I also left with a broken heart. I felt like I was leaving a childhood friend who I played with innocently for years without knowing anything about her but love and then years later I ruined the simplicity and joy of that relationship by maybe wanting more than I can have. I just did not realize that I have always and will have an intimacy with India because she is my mother-land.