Swiping for Shaadi: Episode 2 - Becoming a Wedding Photographer

In the evening, when most of the Mishra family was at home and watching TV, Mishraji entered the house and looked nervous.

“Ji, what happened? Why do you look stressed?” Kamalaji called him with concern.

“Srivastava is not finding a photographer for his daughter’s wedding. He had booked one but that stupid man backed out at the last moment. It is the wedding season, and finding a good professional is challenging.” Then, he turned convincingly to Anjali and asked her, “Beta, can you cover up this wedding?” It didn’t seem to be a request; it was more than a statement.

“Papa, I have done a short photography workshop which was very basic. And I love to click photos when I am traveling. I can’t do this wedding stuff.” She refused flatly while staring at the television.

“I have given him a word. I can’t back out. He trusts me.” 🤠

After a while, Anjali was willing to cover up the wedding event. “I can’t believe I am doing this. I am not a professional. And I don’t like weddings at all.” She grumbled and moved to her bedroom.

“See, she has been spoiled after being in Mumbai for two months,” Daadi remarked, snarling at Anjali.

Anjali didn’t know whether she was happy or frustrated to cover the wedding function. Yes, technically, it was her first event but she was a complete beginner with no experience of shooting live people. She had been on a few solo tours to places such as Mcleodganj and Hrishikesh where she had captured scenic mountain views. And for her, weddings were boring. It would begin with random people smiling at her and asking, “Kaisi hai Mumbai?” or it could be a not-so-decent boy ogling at her.

But the Srivastava wedding turned out to be weird. It was not any young guy staring at her, but an Uncle who looked in his late 40s, who smiled at her widely now and then. Initially, she avoided eye contact with him, then she wondered whether she knew him or not. Was he a distant uncle who had disappeared for a long time? But the last guess was that he was a creep. 👺

Soon, the wedding function commenced and she was occupied with the photography work. It was a simple, intimate wedding since it took place following the then Covid norms.

“Shall I help you with the tripod?” A young, decent guy asked. He looked familiar to Anjali and she strained her memory for a while to recollect when the last time she had met him was.

“Shaalu Maasi ki shaadi. Do you remember? You were 12, I was 10 and we had a great time playing hide and seek.” He sniggered as he made everything clear.

“Siddhartha?” She asked, grinning widely. “Where did you disappear? I heard your father was transferred to the North East. You never returned?” Anjali’s excitement was at its peak as she had met one of her favourite distant cousins after a considerable time.

“Hey, catch some breath. We always visited Agra but we could hardly be in touch with everyone. But now, we are in Agra permanently, and I am in Mumbai.” 👦

Her joy knew no bounds, she was super-excited as she would have a relative-cum-friend in the dream city finally. She had flatmates and office buddies but the connection wasn’t strong enough to share and engage in conversations. The groom’s father distracted her and brought her back to her senses when he signaled Anjali to keep capturing the photos.

“I will get back to you after this event. I need to do my job.” She said apologetically and he understood.

Though only 50 guests were invited to the wedding, clicking their photos was a herculean task for Anjali. She wished she had never signed up for this occasion. Her sabbatical of one week seemed to be drifted that evening. She thought that she would be more weary and tired when she would join the office.

                                                            -x-

The next morning, Anjali ate like a horse.

“I couldn’t even enjoy the wedding buffet. Mahesh Uncle kept on asking me to click photos when the couple was eating, feeding each other by hand, and when the guests were eating. Papa, when next time, someone is getting married and needs a photographer, I can lend my precious camera but not my skills.” She said strongly and gulped the buttermilk in a jiffy.

She couldn’t even talk to Siddhartha though she was joyful and excited to meet him. His infectious smile, his flamboyant style of speaking, and his harmless sense of humour – all seemed to be present in him even after several years.

The Mishras lived in a 2-storeyed row house and had a tiny courtyard. During evenings, the family would settle down on wooden chairs and khatiyas and chat about recent events. Though the elders indulged in gossip and conversations, the kids preferred playing video games on their parent’s mobile phones. Anjali was a working lady, and her cousins, Divya and Dinesh were teenagers. By that time, they had their own gadgets and preferred to scroll through the screens and ignore what their parents were talking about.

There was a knock at the gate, and a man, dressed in a traditional attire of white pajama and faded green kurta pretended to be asking permission, “Andar aa sakta hoon?”

Anjali could easily recognize him, he was the same weird man she came across at the wedding, who ogled at her with a broad smile on his oval face.

‘Creep! Is he following me to the house? I have never seen him before.’ She said to herself. 👺

But Mishraji and Alokji showed signs of acknowledgment to that man and welcomed him laughing, “Premji, please come. It is a blissful thing to have you in our house.”

“I hope I am not disturbing you all.” Mr. Prem, as Anjali could guess his name, said. His smile followed him like a shadow, not leaving him at all.

“Anjali beta, Dinesh, and Divya, he is Prem Uncle. He was in Kanpur but he returned to his ancestral town after his retirement. He runs a consultancy firm in the city, and is also a certified astrologer.”

Not very pleased with his introduction, Anjali inferred that he was not a creep, but surely had creepy looks on his face.

Kamalaji served him with shikanji but Premji had his eyes glued on Anjali.

“Mishraji, I am visiting for an important task. Your daughter is of marriageable age. 👰 I have a proposal for her.”

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