part0026

“I took that camera and started photographing everything. Everyone. Slowly, little by little, I improved by sheer trial and error on what worked, what didn’t. Madhuran, my boss helped me too.” Charlie ran a hand through his hair. “He was a good man and he made a great living taking passport pictures for US-visa hopefuls. He charged them an arm and a leg for it and they paid him because any applicant who took a picture with us ended up going abroad. Then, one night, at three am I met Brinda.”

Charlie remembered the exact moment, even now, all these years later. The streetlight outside Meenakshi Temple had flickeed. A distant cyclewala had rung his horn, while cricket commentary ran somewhere else. The roads were empty, the flower and prasadam stalls shut for business.

“Brinda was a eunuch,” Charlie said slowly. “They had a vivid orange sari and flowers to match on an oiled plait. The pottu on their forehead was a rising sun and the same orange color. The lipstick was bold red and they were swinging a small purse as they walked. I was hypnotized. The confidence, the sheer freedom with which Brinda walked.”

“That was the first Faces of India post,” Avi said.

Charlie nodded. “It was five years later. I did a lot of crazy shit in between, met insanely interesting people and got their stories, saved up so I could go visit all the places we’d learned in geography and live. But she was the first. I captured her face as she smiled at me, with her body still turned away from me.”

He could recall, as if it had happened yesterday, how it had felt. Taking that exact shot in that exact way. “It was pure coincidence that the street was black and white. I shot the picture when the streetlight flickered on and off, so it was like they were on stage. It was magical,” Charlie ended softly.

Avi shook his head. “And so you became a tour guide in Jaipur and rode buses in Agra?”

Charlie shrugged. “Foreigners tip in dollars and euros, dude. Don’t you know?”

“Rich fucker,” Avi said, but without any heat.

“Anyway, one of the foreigners showed me the Humans of NY account and I thought to myself, why can’t I do this? For myself, of course.” Charlie shrugged modestly. “So I could post the stuff I loved for free. Tell the stories of those people who no one wanted to listen to. Who life had forgotten.”

“And now you have millions of followers and a team of four photographers and you got a photo exhibition in a posh gallery in Mumbai.” Avi spoke matter-of-factly, as if he expected Charlie to do this. To be this.

It soothed Charlie immeasurably that his oldest guy friend understood him so well. That he wanted only this for him. It was empowering.

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, I do. And now I have to finish preparing this exhibit before the show opens. Or the critics are going to eat me alive.”

“Over my dead body.” Avi stood up so quickly, his hairy leg accidentally brushed one of the tin cans and he cursed as the whole thing tottered and fell down with a clatter.

“Dammit, Avi,” Charlie cursed. “Please don’t try and help me anymore, machaa .”

“Poda !”

Charlie bent down and started stacking the tin cans again, his back to the entrance so he didn’t see the gang till Anu said, “So this is what your show is about? The number of sodas you’ve drunk in the last ten years?”

Charlie couldn’t believe his ears. He clenched the tin can tightly in his fist, feeling the braille lettering cut into his palm. He wanted visually impaired people to also experience his art.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder. He took his time to turn around.

It turned out to be Arjun. “Hey, bro.” He smiled pleasantly. “You’re blocking the way for the rest of us.”

And that’s when Charlie saw them all. Shashi, smiling like a demented school girl, so all of her teeth were visible. She was holding hands with Arjun. What?! The urge to punch Arjun downgraded to mild.

Meher dragged someone in between them. Anu. She wore torn track pants and a tee shirt that was too tight. Her hair stuck up like she’d plugged her fingers in an electric socket and she had on eyeliner. It was a bizarre look on her.

Charlie’s heart stopped. His breath gave out. He held onto the tin can with all of his strength, bending it out of shape.

“Are you going to answer us or not?” Anu asked softly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked stupidly. “Don’t you have to go for your visa interview now?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you come here to ask me to take your damn visa photo?”

Anu laughed.

The woman actually laughed.

“Vaa , Arjun,” Shashi said. She tugged at Arjun’s hand. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we?”

“Are you two together now?” Charlie demanded, feeling lost and confused.

He didn’t know what to think or feel. This was beginning to feel like a play where he didn’t know the lines. And he was a lousy actor!

“We’ll talk later, anna ,” Shashi promised him. She dragged Arjun inside.

Meher stood next to Anu, hands on hips. Her eyes were narrowed in that way they did when she was deadly mad. “Nee ,” she began. “You kept such a huge secret from me! I told you about my crush on Avi before everyone else. You promised me you’ll do the same if you ever liked a girl like how I liked Avi. You broke your promise.”

Avi gently tapped Meher’s hand. “Now isn’t the time to shout at Charlie, manaivi .”

“And you,” Meher turned on her husband. “You knew that he was the Faces of India account owner and you never said anything. You lied to me!”

Avi cast a dire look in Charlie’s direction. “I will take her to a corner so she can shout at me.”

“Oh, I don’t need a corner to shout at you, Avi Sreedhar,” Meher muttered.

Avi took her hand and led her to another corner of the gallery, with Meher glaring at him and muttering in broken Tamil.

Which left Charlie and Anu alone on the steps of the gallery. Staring at each other like they were absolute strangers. Like they’d never seen each other before.

And maybe, Charlie thought to himself, they hadn’t. He didn’t think Anu wore eyeliner for anything. She’d not worn liner on the day he’d been forced to take her alliance photos.

“What are you doing here, Anu?”

“I came to see you,” Anu replied.

“But you have your visa interview at four pm.”

Anu nodded. “I know.”

“So?”

“So what?” Anu spoke so casually.

Charlie growled. “So what? What do you mean, so what? So you’ve been telling me your whole life that you want to go to the US and study modern medicine. And now you’re here when you should be going for your visa interview. And you are wearing eye liner and…”

“I love you, Charlie,” Anu said quickly.

The tin can clattered from Charlie’s nerveless hand.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, a second later. Unbelievably, anger was snaking its way into his heart. Which was, for some reason, beating really fast. “I don’t believe you and I think you should leave. I don’t want you to be late.”

“I’ll go when I want to go. And I don’t care about the visa interview, muttaalle ,” Anu snapped back.

“What?” Charlie asked stupidly.

“Okay, obviously I care about the visa interview.”

“Then go.”

Charlie turned blindly away from Anu and looked at his Christmas tree. The product of all his travels, each can a story in its own way. All of these places, all of this adventure and still he felt like he would never measure up to Anu Harinandan. It sucked.

Anu held the fallen can out. “I know your secret,” she said quietly. “I figured it out while I was talking to Amma and Appa. I saw the latest Faces of India post and I just knew.”

Charlie cursed in Tamil. “I knew I shouldn’t have used that pic. I knew it. But my team convinced me that the content schedule couldn’t be changed because of my broken heart.”

Anu smiled, tremulously. “I’m so glad it’s not just my heart that’s broken, Charlie.”

Charlie sighed. “What are you saying, Anu? You’re not making any sense at all.”

“Good. Then you know how all of us feel. How I feel!” She punched his bicep. It bounced harmlessly off him. “How could you keep such a big secret from us? Do you know how proud we are of you? How much Shashi loves it.”

Charlie grinned, rubbed at his bicep. “I know. It was so gratifying to hear Shashi rave about my posts. I almost wanted to tell you guys then.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The grin faded from his face. “I don’t know. Pride. Ego? I wanted us to be friends again because of who we were not what we’ve accomplished.”

“You idiot.” Anu punched him again. “What you’ve accomplished is who you are. You’re incredible and I’m an idiot. And I just came to tell you that.”

“You just called me an idiot. So both of us are idiots now?”

“Aamaan .” Anu nodded.

Charlie wasn’t sure Anu was aware but they’d drifted very close to each other. They were almost within hugging distance. The toes of his shoes touched the toes of hers. He could smell her shampoo and it made his heart bump uncomfortably.

“You’re wearing eyeliner.”

Anu nodded again. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She smiled whimsically. “I wanted to look pretty for you.”

His heart sputtered. Fell at the space between their toes. “You don’t have to…”

“I know. But I wanted to. It’s my choice. Just like it’s my choice to be here. Instead of at the visa interview. I still want to go to the US and do my MS. But I want you too. I want to be with you, Charlie. I really don’t care whether you’re a wedding photographer or this…or whatever.”

“But you did,” he couldn’t help reminding her.

Anu sniffed and tears welled up in her beautiful eyes, ruining the liner. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I screwed up so badly with you. No wonder you felt unloved and second-best and…like I was ashamed of you. I made you feel that way and I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

“Anu…”

She shook her head and hugged her arms around her elbows. “I’m sorry. I allowed my parents and this stupid fear of society to get in between us. I know that. There’s no excusing it. You’re not my life plan.”

It hurt hearing that he wasn’t what she wanted from her life, hurt. But at least she was here. In person. Talking to him, instead of at her visa interview. Preparing to board the next flight to America.

“I know that,” he said quietly.

“The problem is…I don’t care about life plans anymore.”

“Why?” He smiled sadly. “Because I am a famous photographer?”

“Because I love you,” she replied so immediately, he had to believe her. “And I’ll love you even if it’s too late for us. Even if I did kill whatever feelings you had for me. I deserve that. I understand that.” She wiped useless tears from her cheeks and he had this irresistible urge to touch her. “I love you. I don’t care what job you do. Or don’t. Love doesn’t discriminate.”

Charlie looked at her a moment longer. He held his hand out to her. “Vaa ,” he said simply.

And, just like that, because he held out his hand and said come, she came. She placed her hand in his and walked with him. And he began to believe, a little, that she just might love him. Enough to wear eyeliner for him and not go to her visa interview. Enough to choose him regardless of what he was.

Charlie took Anu to the first portrait of the exhibition. The one covered in black recycled cloth. He ripped out the cloth with one hand and revealed the portrait.

It was a portrait of Anu. The night of their school farewell. She looked awkward and young and impossibly hopeful in the light-color sari, her glasses almost swallowing her thin, young face. Her face dominated the picture, while the Brighadeeshwara temple’s lights flickered mildly in the background.

“Remember this?” he asked her softly.

Anu’s eyes were as huge right then as they had been that night. She looked wrecked. “Charlie…” she whispered.

His words were so quiet. “You were my first muse. My first subject. You didn’t even know it.”

She slipped her hand into his. And held on tight.

“I loved you then. I loved you every day after.”

Anu closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. The rest of the gang surrounded them then and Charlie knew what he had to do then.

He went around and ripped the cloth from all the portraits. It was of the five of them. His family – Avi, Anu, Charlie, Meher and Shashi. Laughing… As kids… As adults... As only true friends could in each other. As family always did. In one portrait, Meher wore her wedding sharara and was smiling softly to someone off-camera…the groom Avi.

Avi wore ridiculous red shorts in one and posed as Superman. This was during one of their weekend outings together. Shashi had been caught looking at her phone, frowning fiercely while her hair flew around her face.

And the last picture, was Meher and Avi’s wedding shot. The one where they’d all given the fuck you sign to the photographer.

“You got this?” Meher asked in happy, teary wonder.

“I paid the guy extra money to share this with me. I wanted it for myself. To remind me of you.” He looked at them all in turn. Even Arjun, who somehow looked right at home next to Shashi. Maybe because Shashi was still standing way too close to him and didn’t look devastated anymore.

“You are my magic,” Charlie said simply. “You all are my home. And whatever this is, it’s my love letter to you.”

The group hug that followed was worthy of a F.R.I.E.N.D.S episode. It was that emotional, that satisfying.

That perfect.