Men Versus Women – The Photography Divide

Google tells me that Kodak was the pioneer of photography. From there, it was only a short slippery ride to today’s smartphones where everyone got promoted to official food plate recorders.

Well not everyone. Make that half of everyone. 50% of humans (women) developed a deep love for cameras and the balance 50% (men) developed a slightly indifferent attitude towards them.

We were recently invited to the wedding of the son of dear friend (let us just call him Mr VS) in Hyderabad. The wedding functions were excellently choreographed. Each event was planned to perfection; the decorations were stunning and the attention to detail humbling. Importantly, it was a three-day affair; providing occasions enough for 7000 photos. Roughly 6950 too many for the men.

I, being a keen observer of human behaviour, got a chance to do a deep dive into the variance between men and women on their outlook towards photography – and the following are my authoritative conclusions.

• Women, I have inferred have evolved to have a natural affinity for cameras. They look elegant in front of the camera and have patience enough to maintain the same pose, nose pointing pertly, one leg daintily ahead of the other, for 120 photographs. The other 50%? They lack the requisite toolkit – no elegance, no pert noses and no dainty legs.
• The moment a camera appears, any woman immediately becomes Madhuri Dixit – graceful, vibrant, cinematic. The men become Ajay Devgun at a PTA meeting where his child does not come out shining.
• Women find, as if by instinct, the correct angle based on the sun’s direction and background colours. A subtle tilt of the head is enough to capture the light conditions perfectly. The men, with the same sun direction and same background colours, only manage to look like Ajay Devgun; who after a torrid PTA meeting, finds that he has a flat tyre.
• Then come the hands. Women use them expressively, accentuating their poise with languid grace. Men suddenly discover they have too many elbows. Some have learnt that shoving one hand into the pocket lends a certain manly insouciance to their visage. Only that the free hand makes them look like a hanger for a one armed coat.
• The photographer says ‘cheese’ and an alluring pout makes an appearance on the faces of women. Men, because they have been sucking in their tummies for the past 30 seconds in anticipation of the shutter click, end up looking like stuffed toads in urgent need of pudin hara.
• Women can adjust their hair with just one gracious flick of their heads and a finger coyly adjusting imaginary curls over the ear. Men use both hands, but only end up looking like a cat that has been bathed against its will.  

Most group photographs of course, do not start as group photos and I can quote from experience here. The Wife will sight a good angle for a photo (she has an eye for such things). She will take me along, strike a dreamy pose and ask a friend to click a picture. But just before the click another lady will sight us and shout, ‘Wait!’. She joins us. I am pushed off centre. Hearing the shouted ‘Wait!’, a stream of ladies come scurrying from all corners of the venue. I keep getting pushed further and further off centre.

If you see the final picture, you will notice what looks like a human right ear at the edge of the frame. Yup, that’s me.

Okay, let me step away from the wedding for a moment. Taking the opportunity of many friends being at Hyderabad for the wedding, three of us Hyderabadis thought of hosting all the 20 odd couples (all coursemates) for lunch. My house was chosen as the venue.

We quickly learnt that we had overestimated the size of my house. Seen the chicken counter at an Indian wedding buffet? Or a typical Delhi auto with five passengers in the back seat and two in the driver’s lap? Well, the house looked similarly cramped. My guests needed the doggedness of Rahul Dravid and the flexibility of a politician’s ideology to reach the Chicken Biryani and Saalan.

So much so that I noticed Officer SSP (who has earlier made an appearance in my blog here) come out of the human whirlwind glad that he had managed to fill his plate; only to find that Officer GS was attached to the other end staking claim to the same plate. Chagrined – is how they both looked.

Officer PC on the other hand, who had pushed through the same whirlwind for some paneer, came out of the throng a bit dazed, looking questioningly at the four kebabs in his hands. He has an expressive face which, at that moment was expressing

, ‘Wadda hell! How did that happen?’.

Conversation, expectedly, was largely limited to…

‘Excuse me.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Hey! That is my plate.’

‘Is that your elbow is in the curry?’

Notwithstanding, I can say with confidence that all the invitees bonded splendidly, fused together as they all were for two hours. Officers DSR and PVS for example even had a full dialogue without sighting each other because the Delhi auto was in between them.

And yet ladies and gentlemen, humans have shown through centuries that anything can be achieved with singlemindedness of purpose. The 20 women present showed just that. They forged through all the madness and stuck to their main aim in life – photography. 

And there was plenty of it. Often from angles that defied logic. Often also at great risk of falling into the raita. It came to such a head that Officer PC, seeking some solitude to figure out the mystery of the four kebabs, lost his cool and ordered in a loud voice – ‘LADIES, NO MORE PHOTOGRAPHY!’

One would think that that would put a dampener on the proceedings. If so, clearly you do not know (rephrasing Wodehouse) your a. from your e. The ladies, with admirable clarity of thought, shifted to Plan B seamlessly and carried their photography session outside. Onto the road.

The colony that we stay in is a largely civilised one where residents get on with their lives with calm dignity. A nice serene orderly environment. But also it turned out, a fragile environment – that could not cope with the enthusiasm of 20 motivated feminine models. The neighbours, politely curious initially, were soon alarmed at the tsunami of phone camera armed ladies.

The unconcerned  ladies meanwhile continued with their photography…

Sitting (yes sitting) on the main road.

Skipping down the main road, in simulated slow motion, arm in arm, like (60 year old) girls on a picnic in an old Bollywood movie. Giggling too.

Wrapped around resident plants and trees.

Leaning against neighbouring cars, with proprietary hands on the bonnets. One even tried to get onto the roof of a car for that perfect Instagrammable memory. She had to abort the attempt somewhat hastily when the car alarm took off in indignation.

All good things of course come to an end and it was soon time for the invitees to leave. The ladies had by then, shared the 900 photographs on their 900 WhatsApp groups. They had one single regret, ‘wish we had time for some more.’

It was only after the last of them departed, that I had a look at my own colony WhatsApp group which was flooded with messages such as these…

‘What is going on near Villa No 1 (my house).’

‘Should we call the police?’

‘Residents must maintain decorum.’

‘There has to be a limit to uncivilized behaviour.’

I wanted to shoot back some rejoinders, but even a cursory look at the photographic evidence convinced me otherwise. Moreover, just then came some distraction in the form of seven more snaps from the ladies, of four gentlemen eating furtively in the powder-room; plates balanced around the washbasin.

PS – If the above made you smile, please send it to two friends who take life too seriously.