“So Ranjeet, for how long have you been doing photography?” I asked. We were driving in a car from our home in Guwahati to the hotel which was the venue of the Annaprashan ceremony and the lunch reception. Ranjeet, our photographer, was seated in front while my husband, me and Rishaan were seated at the back.
“Umm for quite some time,” he said. Ranjeet came highly recommended as one of the best ‘candid photographers’ in Guwahati. I checked his portfolio, and he indeed took beautiful pictures. His price reflected his reputation, but I was keen to have the best photographs for this event.
I was so excited about Rishaan’s Annaprashan ceremony. Annaprashan is a ritual in various regions of India where the baby tastes “anna” or rice for the first time. The ceremony is meant to mark the baby’s transition from milk to solid food. According to Assamese rituals, the Mama (mother’s brother) has the privilege of feeding the child for the first time. My brother and his family had flown in from Bangalore especially for this ceremony. Also, we invited around hundred close friends and relatives for this event. The photographer for this occasion was really crucial for me because it was a rare opportunity to capture some memorable photographs.
The rituals started early, at 7AM when I had to bathe Rishaan with a paste of raw turmeric and ground urad daal, under the shade of banana tree, that had been especially planted for the event. This ritual took place at home in the presence of our immediate family. I will never forget that memory of little Rishaan, dressed in a mini white dhoti, smiling away as I rubbed the turmeric paste on his soft baby skin, while my mother and some aunts sang songs of blessings for him.
After giving him a bath, we all had cups of hot tea, puri and aloo subzi, chatted and started getting ready to go to the hotel for the lunch reception. Around 10:30AM, Ranjeet came and I gave him a brief as to what kinds of photographs I wanted for the reception. I also mentioned to my sister-in-law, “So young, but he is so talented.”
The main ceremony at the hotel was beautiful. Rishaan was dressed in an orange cotton dhoti and kurta from Fabindia with a tiny red waistcoat. He sat on my husband’s lap in the raised platform, that was decorated all around with fresh marigold garlands. My brother, dressed in white paat silk sat next to them.In front of them, my mother placed a brass bowl with the paayokh (kheer) which was to be Rishaan’s first intake of solid food. On another tray, some coins, a pencil, a book and grains were neatly decorated in separate piles.
One of the rituals in the Annaprashan is that the tray is placed before the child. Whatever the child chooses first amongst the piles, indicates what profession he will be inclined towards as an adult. If he chooses coins, he will be a businessman, if he chooses the pencil or the book he will be a scholar, if he chooses grains he will be a farmer. My child picked up the book first and happily started chewing on the edges. I suppose he will grow up to “devour books,” I thought.
The ceremonies and the lunch went smoothly. I caught sight of Ranjeet milling amidst the crowd, clicking away. I asked him to come and take photos of groups of guests—my husband’s side of the family, my family, my friends etc. Rishaan got more cuddles than he had ever got in his eight months on this planet.
Once the event was over, I waited eagerly for the photographs. Ranjeet was supposed to email me fifty photographs, out of which I would choose my twenty favorite ones for him to edit. When the photos folder came over email, I waited with bated breath as I opened the zip folder. I took one look at the photos, and was shocked.
“WHAT NONSENSE IS THIS?” I shouted. I could not believe my eyes. In front of me were the most blurry, amateurish photos I had ever seen. In one group photo, someone’s shoe was lying right in front of the group. Another photo’s main focus was my uncle-in-law’s bald head. There was one photo of the neatly arranged forks and spoons on the buffet table. And out of the fifty photos, there were only eight photos of Rishaan.
I just couldn’t understand how that was possible. Those photos bore absolutely no resemblance to what I was seeing on my computer screen right now. I was so baffled.
Before confronting Ranjeet, I called up my friend who had recommended Ranjeet. She is also a professional musician and uses Ranjeet’s services for her concerts. She was present at my lunch reception. I told her about the photographs. She said, “But I didn’t see Ranjeet at your reception. I thought you hired someone else for the event.” I said, “What do you mean? He is the one who took our photos.” She thought for a moment and said, “ What?!? That was not Ranjeet. That was some college kid. Ranjeet must be around forty-five years old.”
I was stunned. Who was the guy who took the photographs then? Though I spoke to Ranjeet over the phone and checked his photographs, I did not know what he looked like before he came for the party.
I called Ranjeet. I took a deep breath and asked him, “Ranjeet, were you present at the reception?” There was silence on the other end of the line. Then he hesitated, cleared his throat and said, “No. I sent one of my juniors. But I asked him to tell you that it was not me.” I could not believe it!
Struggling to keep my anger in control, I said, “My contract was with you. And you didn’t tell me even once that you were sending a junior. And everytime, I referred to him as Ranjeet, he kept responding to me. He didn’t even tell me that his name is not Ranjeet.” I told him I am going to file a police complaint against him for running a fraudulent business. I knew that wasn’t going to happen because I was leaving Guwahati in two days, but I had to say something.
He begged with me not to file a complaint. And he said he was not going to charge me a single penny for the photographs—his worthless photographs. I then asked him for the phone number of the photographer he sent for the wedding. He hesitated at first, but then he gave it to me.
I called the young chap and confronted him with what I had found. He said that it was Ranjeet’s idea, that is what he had been told to do. I explained to him that for the sake of a few thousand rupees he had cheated someone and ruined the photographs of the event. It was an unethical thing to do. He apologized to me profusely, but it was already too late.
Once I hung up the phone, I realized that the hopes I had for good photographs for the event were dashed to the ground. I requested all my friends and relatives who had taken phone photos to send their photos to me. So, thankfully I do have some photos of the event.
I did feel a bit sad that I didn’t quite get the photos I would have liked of the event, but its not really the end of the world. Though the photographs were far from perfect, the memories of that sunny day with my little son tasting his first morsel of food, cocooned in the blessings of all the people who loved and celebrated him, are more than perfect.
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