I'm not superstitious, but ...

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We made good friends with this one model we worked with last year. Very lovely young lady, she was nice enough to keep in touch way after she received her images shot by us. We got a call from her last month saying she has a bunch of friends in town and they were all very keen to be professionally photographed. We were already riding high on our 6,000 sq. ft. studio so we asked the whole load of them to come in for auditions. So here we were sitting around waiting for everyone’s headshots to be assessed, when Manav suggested they all make a trip and shoot that. The motley mix of post-teens started discussing every possible drivable location from Delhi. They were all foreigners and from different countries too. This discussion didn’t take long to finalize into an overnight trip to Agra. The home of the Taj, the land of love and loss, the haven of a lovesick king’s biggest accomplishment. Some had seen it with their parents on a day trip, some hadn’t at all. The excitement was electric. The final list read, an Indian girl from LA, a Persian girl from Florida, an all American girl, a Scottish boy, an Estonian boy and finally a Zimbabwean boy. What an awesome bunch they made. So many nationalities and cultures of the world in this group of six. The only thing they shared in common was the age and the generation and that was glue enough to start this trip off very well.

The story I am about to tell you only goes to reinforce my crazy obsession with Lennon’s song ‘Imagine’. In my Utopian fairyland I believe that we can live without religion, without possessions and without countries, we can live like brothers and like thinking human beings. Ultimately we are all the same. I read an article by the photographer who shot the famous portrait of ‘the Afghan girl’, Steve McCurry he said to the effect that a farmer in Afghanistan is no different from a farmer in the US. I guess he meant that as people they are the same, their environments and scenarios are different but they share the same worries, the same ambitions and the same dependency on nature. Anyway, back to the story. These guys were on the road with our Art Director (part Portuguese, part Iranian), Photographer (All from the state of Bengal), Make-up Assistant (state of Punjab) and Studio Hand (I would assume Bihar). They stopped at a harmless looking vegetarian ‘dhaba’ (typical Indian roadside diner, usually very rustic). They ordered heartily and sat back and waited. Suddenly the girls started noticing dragon flies, not one, more like one million. So one of the girls got up from the table and crouched on the floor screaming for one of the knights to save her. The lovely Scottish boy got up, swatted away the dragon flies and stepped over her head to get back to the table. She shot up and said “step back over me”! That’s all she said. One by one each person on the table said “ya, my mom says you have to step back over the person if you stepped over them once.” The tempo got louder and everyone, every different person there knew that they had all heard and participated in one of the oldest ‘old wives tales’ ever. Across the cultures and borders they all grew up hearing this one ‘superstition’. The biggest deal wasn’t that they had all been told the same tale by their Scottish, Estonian, Indian, Persian, Zimbabwean mothers, it was how they all suddenly related on another level. This highly infused gene pool of people sat there, ages 19 – 35 years and said in unison – “coz then you won’t grow tall”. Across most of the globe, covering 4 continents, all these people were told the same reason too! When I heard this story, it stirred me in many ways. Are we all essentially the same? Just people. People with stories, lives, joys, pains, fun, work, family, passions, traditions, the list goes on and it goes on for all of us.