Like She Was There

This collection captures moments from my brother’s wedding in January, through the lens of my Ilford Sprite 35-II. This was my maiden voyage with film photography, where the unpredictability of light and focus mirrored the unpredictability of life itself. This endeavor was about more than just pictures; it was about embracing the raw, unfiltered essence of the moment, from the very spot you stand.

Growing up, my aunt was like a second mother to me, making her son feel like my older brother. We often imagined what his wedding would be like - the guests, our outfits, and the decorations. These were conversations I cherished, especially after she passed away in March 2021. On my flight back home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how she wouldn’t be there to see it.

This series is my way of weaving her presence into the tapestry of that day, standing where she might have stood, capturing the celebration through what I imagine would be her loving gaze. It's an attempt to blur the lines between presence and absence, making it feel as though she was right there, sharing in the joy. This series is a personal exploration of perspective, a tribute to remembering those we’ve lost and seeing the world as they might have.

Aiburobhat, the final feast a bachelor enjoys, surrounded by the warmth and blessings of family elders. If she were there, witnessing the joy, she would be overjoyed to see all the people she cherished deeply showering her son with blessings before his marriage.

Haldi, a cherished ritual in the lead-up to the wedding, involves the application of turmeric on the bride and groom. She would have been filled with joy to witness her sister, in my mother's stead, embracing the maternal role with grace and dedication. It would have been a source of immense pride for her.

Nandimukh, a solemn ritual that readies the groom for the wedding nuptials.

And so, we reached the heart of the ceremony, where my mother, standing in for herself and the absent, lovingly sent him forth to embrace his new life. This pivotal moment marked his final steps from the family home as a bachelor, embarking on a journey to return with his bride—someone my aunt would have embraced as another daughter. The poignant truth that my brother's wife never had the chance to meet her fills us with a blend of sorrow and reflection. Yet, we keep my aunt's spirit vibrantly alive through the stories and words we share, ensuring her presence is perpetually felt among us. It echoes the ancient Egyptian belief in immortality, where the pharaohs, though long passed, continue to live through the tales and honors we bestow upon them. In this way, my aunt, too, achieves a form of immortality, cherished and remembered within the hearts of those who loved her.