I’m a struggling model

She calls me late into the night.

She asks ‘Hey, I’m a struggling model. Are you free for a shoot this Sunday?” I reply, “Yes lady sure, you got the number right. I’m the struggling photographer’.
This is how many of my conversations go these days. I figure out the fashion world parlance with a cynical exuberance.

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As I sit adjusting the aperture, I glance at her feet and mine, and hers again. My skin is parched, cut and cracked; not to mention plagued by the rigid dirt and grime of Bhutan. The half cut toe nail (thanks to the Vizag trip) only adds to the disgust quotient. Hers is what poets would call 'thamarai edhazh'(lotus petal) feet. I cover up my feet immediately. Though the models of course are too self-obsessed (and rightly so) to give a damn about how dirty, clumsy or ill-dressed I’m. And I'm surely not complaining.

I'm sitting with my model; chatting up about cowl neck, corset and studio lights. I tell her that I have no full length mirror, and my model squeaks “sacrilege” when I tell her I have not had one in the last 1year.

My mind drifts off to 2009. Last year I was working with GOI on a rural initiative, and spent many days in the interiors of the country studying the education system, rural life, social injustice etc. The topics of discussion included mid day meal schemes, jawahar rojgar yogna, microfinance, nasscom surveys and so on. Today I sit down to discuss about fashion, which is quite an alien world. I don’t understand or appreciate it, I try hard to fathom how one can actually have a conversation about acne for 30mins at a go.

I never imagined being a part of the fashion world; I’m still grappling with that idea. Every time I see a man indulging in a 60k watch or a woman spending lakhs on a gown, I cringe at the thought of how I don’t belong here. Sure I’m only the photographer and would like to believe that it won’t be impossible to engage and disengage from the world of glamour.

Photographer! I never imagined being one when I was growing up. Photography has come to me, unlike other pursuits in my life, because of travel. When I was travelling all over the country and alone, I needed something to keep me engaged and I started clicking. I just 'clicked' all the time. In that process, in a year, I discovered my love and aptitude for people photography. And then fashion photography happened.

Over the years I pursued many interests. In the written word I found a sense of solace and freedom that I didn’t in anything else. While in theater, I found a means of self expression and creative indulgence that helped break all my inhibitions. Veena helped me focus and meditate on life when I was going crazy over a breakup. Travel transformed me completely (that would be another post). My work with the social sector brought in level headedness, compassion and the much needed patience. (I know, I’m sounding like a 80yr old writing her autobiography, going on a narcissistic trip).

Coming back to photography, the camera is my valentine-my team mates joke. I’m dreaming about photo shoots night after night,scribbing notes from my bible on photography as I wait for my early 6am flights. I wink sometimes, almost imagining looking through the viewfinder. I wake up at all odd times at night to refer to a site to get clarity on some idea that pops up.

Everyday is a new day now. Some days I wakeup early to do a photo shoot with models getting home at 6am , and then get to work to train on critical thinking and emotional intelligence , ending the day with a call on competency mapping. I then get home to processing pictures, knowledge sharing with my flickr community etc and sleep late into the night planning the next shoot.

Every once a week, I wake up at 3.30am to catch an early flight (whoever makes these early flights least expensive?),spend most of the day at airports, chatting up with strangers from different parts of the world. Women bartenders to old social activists. I spend the rest of the day with Atwood, Lessing, Cotzee or our good old Murakami and kundera.

Then ofcourse there are socializing/ travelling for fun and photo days. I take off almost every weekend I get after my workshops in other locations for what some people would like to call ‘sight seeing’. I indulge in landscapes,nature,architecture and people photography .I make so many friends on the way, serendipity and adventure becomes a way of life those days.

There are those break days, when I spend all day at work, not working. I laugh endlessly with Tutu and Ali,my office spouses. They fill my day with so much excitement and humor, I return home on such days with a laughter induced stomach ache.

I love it this way. Each day is unpredictable; each day filled with a learning that is taking me someplace, each day a new dream and goal. When I was kid, I would pack up bags every time dad would mention someplace and pester him to take me a holiday right away. Nothing much has changed now, every month there is an exciting new destination I travel to.

Another thing that hasn’t really changed much from childhood is the friendships. I remember getting a new person home every other day (my school in tanjore was bangopposite to my home), and introducing the person to my mom as my best friend for life. Ofcourse I don’t make best friends by the minute now, but still every other week I make friends with a new artist.

It is fascinating to be befriending photographers, models, painters and filmmakers on an everyday basis. What I love about them is that they all are extremely upbeat about life.Not to forget iconoclastic, ambitious, nonconformists, and stereotype challengers.

There is so much creative energy filling up every moment of my life now, and the spirit of waking up to ideas for a shoot is unimaginably rejuvenating. So yes, its all so exciting. Not to mention mindboggling, considering how this field of work is diametrically opposite to what I have been doing all these years. It is scary because everyday I drown in the sea of self doubt, I have no inkling of an idea if I will go anywhere with this.

But I guess I’m going to jump into it. Well,I already have. Even if I fail, I think it is perfectly okie. I’m totally enjoying the journey and clichéd as it might sound, it’s not the destination that matters.

As I write this, I schedule a bikini shoot with my super hot model who is now giving me lessons night after night about life in the fashion world. I eat a humble pie and take notes diligently. She tells me I’m the best aspiring photographer she has met, and I dance on cloud nine.