Smile for the Camera
I was just looking through my photos on my computer today. For some reason, as tired as I was, as much as I wanted to just jump into bed and catch the z's, I found myself starting for hours in front of my computer, looking at ALL my photos; almost 4 years worth of memories, captured in video and photo. I must say, it is and always will be a nostalgic visit, going through your stash of photograph. I noticed how in my 4 months in the UK, the period of time could be told simply by just looking at the length of my hair! When we just arrived, we were all looking like GI's straight out of the army with our crew cut hair. By the time we boarded the plane home to Malaysia, we were more John Lennon and Jimmy Hendrix than anything else, hair falling messily down our foreheads and ears half covered.
The photograph you see is of the day my friends and I went with the bunch of church people to hike around the Peak District, just behind Sheffield. Like I said earlier, at the time it felt like the most magical and wonderful day of my life thus far. At the end of the day, I considered the photos of the breath taking scenery to be the most prized photos. It was my first experience of the English country side, of totally fresh and clean air... But as I looked through the photos again, I realised something; I didn't know it then, but in the following 3 months after that photo was taken, I would get to know at least half of the people in there rather well. I never thought twice when I first saw that photo. But now that I see it again with different eyes, I realise just how unexpected life can be sometimes. 3 persons there I would eventually sing with in front of a crowd for the first time. Later, I would spend my final 2 weeks at Sheffield at the house of another 4. 1 would end up becoming the coolest scottish guy I know there (no need to guess which one eh?) and one more would become such a dear friend to me, I'd laugh at you if you suggested to me at the time this photo was taken.
I sat and looked the the faces, the smiles, the expressions, the pose, the background, the shirt each of us were wearing at the time, and suddenly I am transported back in time. Looking at the photos suddenly makes you remember not only on the details of it all, but the feel if it as well. I remembered how I felt the time time. I remembered the sound of laugher from friends, the way they would behave; of being exasperated, amused, entertained, excited, nervous, inspired, somber, hopeful, faithful and mostly cheerful. Watching the videos were just worse. To not only see, but also hear your own voice, and that of those that were there with you literally transport you back in time. Every silly gesture, every lame joke, every playful remark, all captured on video. At the time, though I knew these videos and photos were there, I didnt want to look at it. It felt a bit too embarrassing and recent for me to watch it without cringing.
This time around, I plucked up the courage and dared myself to watch those silly videos and stupid pictures again, alone of course... and though it still felt incredibly embarrassing to watch it, this time, it was with a big hint of nostalgia. Its amazing that something as simple as a persons voice is enough to make you miss them. Hearing my friends talking in front of the camera, I suddenly miss them more that I know how to express. Not that they are lost to me, only that we are no longer on the same journey together. I wished I had more videos of other dear friends who have either gone abroad or moved on in life. I know I would miss them more if I had their photos and videos, and yet a part always longs to hear it again, to relive the moment, even if it is just in the mind. I laughed alone in the living room, I covered my face with the pillow (which I will deny if you ever ask me), shook my head left to right and and made tsk tsk tsk... sounds to myself... all just by looking at the smiling faces of people I came to become so fond of, and hearing their recorded voices and actions.
It was then that I realised; the most beautiful photos I took in these 4 months was not the Eiffel Tower, its french villages, Paris city, London, Sheffield, or any part of England for the matter. Not even the breathtaking scenery at the Peak District Sheffield. Can you guess it by now? It was the smiling faces of the people that made my stay special. Because though when the photo was taken we were all really just smiling for the camera, 4 months and a mountain of nostalgia later, you see not a picture of someone smiling for the camera, but someone smiling at you.
posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 10:09 am
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