Memories are preserved thanks to photographs. A few months ago people from the New Indian Express came home for an interview. And took some 25 photographs, the most important ones so that they could use it. Mom was never one to click everything that I did, every important moment, prize winning ceremonies and stuff like that. Hence, there were a prized few. We always planned to scan and preserve in soft copy. But as they say, procrastination is something that got the better of me.
And thus the people at Indian Express took the only copies of the pictures we had because at that point in time we were hard-pressed for time to scan them. And LOST all of them.
The reporters who were supposed to be responsible for it hardly cared. Calls to the publication was of no use as well. Apparently it was lost in their time office. Someone said it had been couriered even after we told them that we would personally collect it. We tried talking over several weeks, begged them to somehow find at least few of our photographs, but to no avail. After a point they stopped taking our calls.
And now when someone came to home to shoot a small feature on Mom and I, they asked for pictures that they could use. All of which are lost now. To most, it might seem like much ado about nothing. But to me, it was a valuable possession, which I deserved to have and I no longer do for no fault of mine.
This particular moment I wish I can have those back. But I know I can't, no thanks to my sense of postponing and definitely, no thanks to a pack of irresponsible journalists who couldn't care less.