Well, I had no intention that day. No place to go, no timetable. I have just gotten up, seen my cycle sitting in the corner of the room and thought- why not? So I got my camera, inflated the tyres and went.
It was early in the morning. There was that old wet feeling in the air that the mornings in Bangladesh always possess. I put my cycle down in the grass a moment just to take a photo of it - I just felt like doing it. And the sun was striking it on the side and the red and black frame was pretty nice against all that green. Even such little things make me happy.
I began to ride without a definite direction. It led me at last to some open fields, and then I saw that there was a pond on one side, with tall grass and reeds upon it. This peculiar greenish color was of the water--I do not know whether it was because of the reflection of the sky or not. There were a couple of clouds that were floating overhead, which are white and puffy. I paused and made some shots and only stood there and did nothing.
As I went on, I had to go through a small space, which had trees on either side. It had grown a little cloudy now, and all appeared a little darker and green. It was a big tree with its roots stretched out wide in the middle, and I could see a little lake or pond behind it, but could not say which. The palm trees growing high on every side of it, gave the entire place a wild, overgrown sort of an impression. Nothing to be afraid of, only very natural and very alive.
I overtook, at one time, a small flowers growing along the road. Orange, yellow, red--all mingled together in such little bunches. I crouched down to take a close shot. Some little insect had taken its ease in the very centre of one of the flower heads. I didn't disturb it.
A short way ahead a cat was sitting on a low piece of concrete ledge close up to the garden wall of some one. Next to this was one plant of roses, one big deep red rose, with a few at its edges, and its petals beginning to fall. The cat was just gazing up at me out of those green eyes, and seemed perfectly indifferent. I clicked the picture and went ahead. The cat must have known nothing of how good it was in that frame.
Towards the end of the afternoon I was so far away at home that I did not recognize the vicinity any more. The sky above a row of cocoanut trees had changed to a gentle blue-grey, and the trees were swinging lazily in the breeze. I glanced around and made that shot - only the tops of the trees showing up against the sky. No big scene, just one that I enjoyed.
Then evening came, and the entire atmosphere of the day was altered.
I have no idea where I was when I happened to be in an open field and as the sun was going down I found myself standing in an open field and there was a single taal gach in the middle of an open field. The sky behind it was now something I cannot quite explain, deep orange and red bleeding into dark blue, and the mist lying low on the ground. It was such a sunset that makes one put everything on hold.
After that, I took a local bus, heading back. We were passing a bridge over a river, just at that moment the sun was sitting in the deepest red, right at the end of the horizon. I put my phone through the window and pressed the buttons without even thinking. Every now and then, that is how the best photos occur.
I arrived at home by way of a small railway station. I don't remember its name. One yellow signal light burning in the darkness, sparks flying somewhere in the vicinity where a worker was cowering over something-- cutting metal or welding, I could not tell. The fire caused light to shine on his face and the sparks that were scattered on the ground. I stood there and saw him a couple of minutes before I finally managed to take a photograph.
The whole day was worth it with that one shot.
