The Whisper And The Wind

The World Through My Lens

As I gaze lazily at the park, I can't help but observe the various ways people seek solace from their everyday lives. A bunch of kids are engrossed in a game of tag, their laughter reverberating amidst the trees. Over on a bench, a group of teenagers sit with headphones on, their eyes distant as they immerse themselves in music. Meanwhile, some individuals lie on the grass engrossed in books, their faces captivated by imaginary realms far away from reality. It appears that everyone in my vicinity is yearning for a means to detach themselves, to find an escape from the world we inhabit.

But not me. I want to live it, every messy, beautiful part of it. Through the hardships and joys, I want to experience it all. As I fine-tune the focus of my camera lens, I seize a precious moment: a mother raising her child high in the air, their face beaming with unadulterated happiness. Photography is not merely an escape for me; it serves as a means to perceive the world with greater clarity and to immortalize those fleeting instances of truth that often go unnoticed by others.

As I lower my camera, I notice a boy across the park. The boy which I know very well.

He's always in the park whenever I try to capture life in my camera roll. But today it feels different. He is shooting hoops alone on the basketball court. His movements are tense and deliberate, each shot a release of pent-up frustration. Even from a distance, I can tell something's off. He's usually the life of the party, always surrounded by friends, but today he's alone.

I decided to check on him. As I approach, I see a few kids nearby, hesitating at the edge of the court, looking worried. It doesn't take long to piece together what's happening—he's been helping out at the community center, coaching these kids, but today something's clearly gotten to him. It could be the disparity in levels and responsibilities that is affecting him. It's a common occurrence.

When work goes unnoticed and unappreciated, it often leads to frustration and self-doubt. This is something I have observed in society.

Witnessing this, my mind reached a conclusion.

"Hey," I say, keeping my tone gentle as I walk up.

He looks up, surprised but relieved to see a familiar face. "Hey, Shitwik. Just trying to clear my head." there was a hint of mixed frustration and relief in his voice.

"Mind if I help?" I ask, glancing at the kids, who are still standing uncertainly.

He nods, handing me the ball. "Sure, they could use some pointers."

I spend the next hour running drills with the kids, my camera forgotten for the moment. We work on their shooting form, footwork, and passing techniques. He slowly relaxes, joining in and helping out, his earlier tension easing with each passing minute. Despite my usual clumsiness, I managed to show them a few good moves.

By the time the sun starts to set, the kids are laughing and high-fiving each other, their earlier worries forgotten. "Thanks, man," he says quietly as the kids head home. "I needed that."

"No problem," I reply with a smile. "Anytime."

It's easy to spot those in need of help, but how do most people react when they come across someone like that? The sad truth is, that many do nothing. It may seem harsh, but that's just the reality. A prime example is our society, where people often reach for their phones to record a situation before offering assistance. However, I like to think that not everyone behaves this way at least I don't.

As I glance around, I notice the park has emptied, the usual bustle giving way to a peaceful evening stillness. The sky is painted with shades of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon. I gather my camera and gear, feeling a sense of fulfillment from helping out and connecting, even if just for a little while.