Deaf in Delhi: A Memoir

21. Working in the Photo Studio

21 Working in the Photo Studio G O Y L E S T U D I O W A S O N E O F T H E N I N E T Y O R so shops on Janpath that were allotted to refugee businessmen from Pakistan. These refugee shops lined one side of Janpath, and stately shops in huge columned buildings, which catered to the wealthy, lined the opposite side of the street. These “temporary” structures were still there fourteen years after India and Pakistan were divided into separate countries . These businessmen had built up so much economic and political clout that the New Delhi Municipal Corporation was afraid to take the structures down. Each shop site was worth hundreds of thousands of rupees and was allotted to “deserving refugees,” a euphemism for people who could pay heavy bribes or were related to the mayor or corporation commissioners. The location of these shops was one of the best, if not the best, in all of New Delhi. Cannaught Place was the most modern shopping center in New Delhi, and two of the best hotels, the Imperial and the Janpath, were within walking distance. All the tourists visited this row, and the storekeepers had a roaring business in clothes, jewelry, artwork, and other baubles that tourists liked. The prices in these shops were “fixed,” as the sign in front of each store declared. An American tourist would pay $20 for a trinket that a knowledgeable local could pick up for $2. However, locals never shopped in those stores. I used to enjoy walking with my friends on this strip and looking at all the clothes and other wares that I could not afford. The idea that I was going to work in one of those stores behind a counter, where I would be talking to people from all over the world, was very exciting. But, as always, what you expect and what actually happens are two different things. Instead of being behind the counter and dealing with 120 working in the photo studio 121 fancy people, I found myself working in the darkroom, washing and drying prints, trimming and retouching them, and then putting them in envelopes with marked order numbers. All this work was done in a threeby -six-foot room with a small window. The front counter was taken up by “M,” since he was an expert at retouching negatives, and the retouching cabinet was right behind the counter. Of the four people working there, I was the only one who could talk. I thought that fact might make me the logical choice for the cushy job. However, being new and only parttime , I had not yet earned the right to sit up front. The limited opportunities I did have to work at the counter helped me develop some self-confidence. Since Goyle, Vasand, and Subramanium could not talk and their writing was rudimentary at best, they communicated via gestures. At times, they would call me from inside to explain something to the customer. I liked and looked forward to these opportunities. Talking with strangers, especially men dressed in expensive suits and beautiful perfumed women, was not easy for me. I had left the little village of Gagret only a year earlier, and these fancy people made me nervous. I would begin to sweat and grow a lump in my throat the size of the tie knot of the man I was talking to. It was even harder to respond to women who appeared to belong to another planet. My voice, which was the reason for my coming out to the counter, would be lost. It took several months before I learned that these rich people were just regular people with money. It was a perfect arrangement. I learned photography as a student at the PID and honed my skills as a darkroom technician at my studio job. I also had the opportunity to take photographs at weddings, news events, and various ceremonies. Photographing a wedding was nothing but fun. Only well-off people could afford to hire a professional photographer. At these weddings, they had huge buffet dinners spread out. The wedding ceremony, with the priest chanting mantras and the couple getting married throwing rice, flowers, sugar, and vermillion into the fire went on all night. There was little for a photographer to do but wait for another photo opportunity, which came when the bride was to leave for the groom’s home. In between...