As we sat through the day’s rituals, at my friend’s house, with his closest family in tow, we should go to the dumpyard in the back and take a few pictures, thought his sister, Kanika and I.
Thus began this shoot, with little Kanika, who has grown into a smart, lovely young girl while her brother and I, remain goons.
Kanika is my friend’s sister and while she’s in college, she takes pictures and wants to do just that, for the rest of her life. When she was younger, my friend and I, we never gave a minute’s notice to her for we were in high school and much cooler or so we thought. With an occasional “hey there little one”, we’d leave her behind with her books while we went gallivanting all over town on our rusted bicycles and Milton water bottles.
If one of us was lucky, we’d have enough coins collected to share a bottle of coke after a long day of basketball, badminton and swimming. If we weren’t, we would make puppy dog faces at either my mother or my friend’s and somehow siphon off a glass of any summer drink that was laid upon the table.
Our childhood was bliss, our lives complete in the army cantonment we grew up in. Our only challenge, making sure our mothers didn’t go to the parent teacher meeting at the same time, for of they did, they’d be pulled in by every teacher waiting to complain about us two and how we should be kept apart for our benefit. We would lay in the meadow next to a secret lake, planning our next prank victim while little Kanika stayed home knowing of the trouble we would get into eventually. Trouble is the collective name we went by.
In all of this was our joy and happiness.
But today we’re grown up. Nothing really has changed except for our ability to grow facial hair and afford proper transport instead of roller skates or what our parents called a bicycle but was really just two tyres with sometimes a metal rod keeping them together.
Now we lay on the deck of boats or guesthouse beds. Hurling of abuses has been replaced by fancier ways of enunciating the same abuses, hand me down clothes have been replaced by barely there clothes and planning the next prank has been replaced by planning the next dive or photo shoot. Our deceitful can’t-do-nothing-wrong eyes have been enhanced with laugh lines and our enthusiastic energy is replaced with lesser stamina and a rather relaxed photoshoot.
But the feeling of family remains. The feeling of coming back to the army cantonment, the nostalgia of days gone by and the freedom to really explore the dingiest of building, remains. Just that now we have pictures to add to our childhood memories of doing the same things while the little one we always left behind with her books, now has the tool to add to our album.
Photos by Kanika Narang
Wearing Top by Dorothy Perkins, Tracks by Ajio.com, Jacket by Vero Moda, Sneakers by Koovs
Take A Bow