My name is Molester, Camera Molester.

I remember once when I was 12 my father refused to buy me a nice graphite tennis racquet, not until I was better at the game. And rightfully so, when I did improve, I was promptly given a new racquet, a nice graphite ‘Head’ racquet. I was given something I deserved. I had earned it. Also at that level of playing it improved my game play. I also recollect, a couple of years later when I picked up basketball I had a basic basketball and craved for a Spalding leather ‘Outdoor Ball’. The type professionals use. I asked my father if I could have money to buy one. I was harshly turned down and given a long, long lecture on how I wasn’t a professional level player and didn’t deserve one. Show me you’re that good and I’ll get you that ball. That was his rationale. To me then, as an immature child it all seemed like an excuse to deny buying me what I asked for. But now that I look back in retrospect, I have come to the realisation that I was never denied anything that I didn’t rightfully deserve. And I was always denied or when I had my own cash to burn , discouraged from buying stuff that I probably did not need, or would underutilise. I really respect my parents especially my father for that. I wish he knew this, because as far as he’s concerned he’s still my ‘enemy number one’. Actually I love him, I love him beyond measure and I’d give my life for him. It’s just that expressing this at times tends to be difficult. Anyway let me not get into all of that now.
Just yesterday I was chilling with a couple of friends, who had apparently brought along a couple of friends of their own; this resulted in a couple of new faces at the table. Now I love it when there is a new face around, it makes conversation so much more interesting. Thus having a ‘couple’ of new faces sort of, you know, doubled my happiness. Now one of these new faces was a peculiar looking lanky young lad who had brought with him his camera. An impressive looking Canon camera, with a beautiful looking Canon lens. My first impulse was to ask this bloke if it was an SLR. But I refrained form basing my interest in him on his camera, lest he gets the wrong idea about me. So as the evening progressed and everyone was a few drinks down, feeling good, the conversation got a lot more interesting, as did the general environment. Not for me however, with no alcohol in my system, my mind was still exclusively on that camera of his. Distracted, of course, only by the occasional monosyllabic contribution to the ongoing conversation. It was without doubt a Canon SLR, had a 12X optical zoom and a shit load of advanced options that I was working on and analysing, visually of course. I hadn’t asked him about his camera yet, although he had caught me a few times gazing at it. Yeah it was embarrassing. You see checking out a photographer’s camera is like checking out his babe, his girl, his chick, his…….you get the picture (no pun intended). I know this because photography is my newfound hobby. And no, if you’re hoping I’ll tell you about my baby you’re sadly mistaken, I introduce her to no one. So anyway let’s get back on track. The next time he caught me looking at his camera I felt so embarrassed that I apologised and explained to him how eager I was to know about its specifications. He showed not an ounce of reluctance and handed his camera to me. I was aghast! This was like handing some one your girlfriend to fondle as you wished. “Here, do with her whatever you will.”
He didn’t flinch at all as I touched and felt up his baby. I ran my fingers over every part of her, my eyes absorbing in every visual aspect or her form each and every angle possible. I even pushed her various buttons which resulted beeps. He didn’t seem effected by this at all. He was immersed in a rather meaningless conversation with everyone else about some damn TV serial.
I handed back his camera, told him how wonderful a piece he’d bought. And as I blurted out the specifications of his camera to him and what it was capable of, just to get some form of affirmation from him that I was totally right in my judgements his answer was just – HUH?

The rest of the conversation was as follows:

“Huh?”

‘Huh?’ (I thought to myself slightly confused) Was I wrong? Was it not an SLR or was it not an 8.1 mega pixel camera? Was it not capable of taking macro images at 3 inches? Was it not capable of ISO 1500? Where where where was I wrong? Think think think!

"What did you just say bud? Its an SL what?"

“An SLR.” I completed. “A single lens reflex camera.”

With an idiotic grin, “Dude I have no idea what you’re on about. I just liked it and all. You know it’s like a Canon, and my dad’s like Canon’s a good company and all. So I wanted one with a good zoom and all so I bought this one. It’s totally cool, see how the zoom lens pops out”

He demonstrated by popping the lens in and out by roughly twisting the zoom ring one way then the other. I winced every time I heard the lens go ‘clunk’ at the end of its zoom limits as he twisted the zoom rings. He was manhandling her. He was treating a hand crafted, state of the art, Canon lens like an unsophisticated brute.

Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!

“Ha! Looks like an erection doesn’t it? Look! Ha ha! Look! Now it’s so big”

Clunk! Went the lens, as it reached its limits again. He muttered an odd “Aaaah!” trying in some pathetic way to imitate a climax and slowly twisted the zoom ring as the lens retracted.

“And now look! It’s like so small. Ha aha! Ha!”

Surprisingly everyone seemed to find this amusing. There was hysterical laughter all around. I personally couldn’t find this torturous way of treating this genuine work of art and demeaning it the way this gentleman (not) was, the least bit funny.
I excused myself from this jolly lot as I needed to think. I couldn’t think among them as I was constantly being slapped on the back between frenzied bouts of laughter in a vain attempt encourage me to join in. Also the screams and agonising squeals of that camera as it was molested and subsequently tossed heartlessly onto the sofa were too much to bear.
I took five outside and spoke to myself about the importance of maintaining composure as I had a very strong urge to wack this dude on the head and twist his balls like a zoom ring and go:

“Ha ha! How does that feel buster? Look I can twist it both ways! Yaay!”

I guess finding humour in his shrieking and yelping wouldn’t be that hard for me.

I re-entered the joint. The laughter had just died off (thankfully). Now it was back to that TV serial and how this actress had and affair with that actor and who’s having who’s baby and what not!
As the evening drew to an end I was enlightened with the knowledge that this camera had cost this well mannered gentleman (not) around two thousand four hundred Singapore Dollars! He had no idea about all its features, nor did he seem interested. He was happy with the fact that he could attain a 12X optical zoom and that he could make jokes using his camera as a prop, blissfully ignorant of the camera’s power and capabilities. A dozen photographs were taken for the sake of memory of this wonderful evening, where a camera was tortured by its owner who almost got tortured by me in turn. When he took it upon himself to act Mr. Photographer it was even more evident to me that this undeserving person, who held this masterpiece, had no idea about even the basics of photography. Deeming his inability to churn out quality group photos to be the result of too much drinking (that’s a new one) he gave up.

“I’m just too drunk to take pictures I guess.”

I willingly volunteered to get some quality shots off using this ultra powerful tool. Boy, I tell you, using a digital SLR is such bliss. Before I handed her back to Mr. Camera Molester (my name is Molester, Camera Molester) I whispered to her a few comforting words. I also sympathised with her, told her it wouldn’t be long before it’d all be over. She’d be liberated soon from all her pain.

I can only imagine how underutilised this powerful camera shall be in the hands of this dude. It wasn’t like he was eager to learn stuff he didn’t know. He couldn’t even be categorised as a beginner or a novice. There was no beginning as there would be no end, and no journey to it. He was just so content with the fact that he had the best gizmo on the market and with her he could click pictures at 12X optical zoom (he would never go beyond something as trivial as). And of course that she, some how satisfied his twisted sense of humour.
I don’t know what to say. I’ll leave it to you to draw conclusions. I personally wouldn’t be able to buy that camera for myself until I believed that I had graduated to a level where I could exploit its full capabilities or felt that the type of pictures I was taking demanded a better camera.

Thanks dad.

Love Hurts, But Sometimes Its a Good Hurt.

A lot of questions have plagued my mind for so long now. I’d suppressed them. I can no more. Why does no one feel like she did? Why doesn’t anyone’s hug or cuddle feel as comforting as loving? Why do I feel complete in her arms? Why do kisses mean nothing anymore, no matter how talented the partner? With her every kiss was filled with emotion and propelled by love. Why can I touch no one like I touched her? Why do I long for no one but her? Why is she the only on in my dreams, my thoughts and my fantasies? I’ve been with others since, but I feel not the intensity I felt with her ever since the beginning, ever since we met. Why did she have to leave when everything was so right? Why did she give up if the feelings between us were so intense? Why does she still say she loves me? Why does she regret breaking up with me? How can she move on just a month after we broke up and say things like that? Why can’t I move on? Why does it feel so wrong touching another and being with another? Why am I devoid of feeling toward the whole world? Why do I look at women differently? Why do I wonder so often what my reason for living is, my purpose and my place? Why have I contemplated suicide more than once? Why do I feel so incomplete without her? Why did I give her and our relationship all that I had, my heart, my soul, so much that I have nothing left to give? I’m a walking talking human in perfect health with no feelings, no compassion and no empathy. I’m cruel, I’m nasty, I hate, I despise, I rebel, I antagonise and I feel pleasure in sadistic behaviour. I am frustrated and I would not think twice before picking up a fight with anyone, just anyone. Why is there nothing about our relationship that I can blame for what happened? Why did it have to happen to us, to me, although our relationship was so pure and the feelings so true? Why do all those arseholes, those bastards who lie to their girlfriends, tell them they love them, yet fuck around and cheat on them multiple times, face such issues? Why do they “Live Happily Ever After”? Why can’t I be happy? Why can’t I be happy with the only thing I want, the ‘Love of My Life’? Why can’t we be together? Why can’t I have myself my very own happy ending?

Chaos

Walking beside her I was incomplete. She was completing some one else. Her smiles were not meant for me, nor was her touch. Confused though she claimed she was, she now seemed completely in control of her feelings. I walked a few paces ahead of them, glanced back once and could take no more. I shut my eyes in a vain attempt to keep my tears from trickling down. They flooded my eyes then rolled down and warmed my cheeks, I wiped them as they came. She looked so content, so satisfied. For the first time I felt incomplete around her. In her presence, so alone, desolate, so cold. The piercing pain in my heart was unbearable. We parted ways, said our goodbyes. Her eyes were moist, she touched my hand. I felt life run through me, it felt so good. But with the abruptness of a tornado it vanished, as her hand slipped off mine. I looked into those beautiful eyes, the eyes I fell in love with, one last time. Without any words I said, 'Good bye love, be happy.'
Why? Why? Oh! Why all this pain? Am I to seek solace in the fact that she loves me? Am I to feel supreme because she isn't yet over me? Am I to seek comfort in knowing that she has wept so much wondering why she left me, regretting not giving our love another chance? Why did she make all this known to me now, after so long, if the finality of the situation still reigns supreme?
She shares her life, her love with some one else.
She called me the other day, out of the blue. We spoke, as would best friends after a long separation. Almost five months had past since I’d heard her voice. I loved hearing her talk, that familiar voice, that familiar tone. I felt so alive. I was smiling from ear to ear while I spoke to her. The excitement in her voice felt pleasing. We spoke for so long, carefully avoiding the sensitive issues. The conversation ended. My smile wore off. Before I could deal with this new situation she messaged. In it she said how much she still cared for me. I replied telling her how I would never stop caring for her, she is after all the love of my life. I waited for what felt like an aeon for a reply. I could hold my composure no longer. I snuck in to a quiet corner, called her. We both wept over the phone. I told her how much I loved her and how much I’d missed her, how there hasn’t been a day that has passed without me thinking of her. She said she’d missed me too. Said there were so many moments when she’d cried her heart out, wondering why she’d not given our relationship another chance. I asked her how she could move on in just a month, how could she be with another. I was still not over her and was incapable of thinking of anybody else. Her answer shocked me. She said I was not around, she was lonely, she was getting to know new people and found that she liked him a lot. Was I supposed to be around? Wasn’t I asked to leave her alone? Hadn’t she said she wanted to be alone and among friends. She needed her space. Hadn’t she said that she didn’t want a relationship so early in life. She said she needed to be single. How could she be so weak? How could some one who I thought was so strong get into a relationship on the rebound? Didn’t she know better than that? I said nothing though. I didn’t utter a word. I consumed it all, as I have so many things before. Keeping it all within. She stressed that she didn’t want to lose me and that it was important to her that we kept in touch and that we didn’t lose each other as friends. I agreed, we’d shared so much when we were together, known each other so well, there had been no failure of any sort in our relationship, we must remain friends. Rest assured it would be a difficult task for me as I hadn’t moved on and I assumed she had. But it stopped the tears on both ends and for the moment we were both comfortable. We decided to meet. She asked if it was okay if she brought him along. I saw no harm, thought at that time that I would be able to take it, that it would urge me towards my ultimate closure.
We met. Seeing her at a distance filled me with such joy. She was alone. I hugged her, felt her warmth. Felt her in my arms. I looked into those eyes I had longed to see. We smiled, I felt complete. We walked to where we intended to sit. I wondered where he was but refrained from asking. We spoke to each other, smiled, caught up on old times, but all our laughs ended in sighs. When we were both quiet, we were busy thinking. I could tell from her eyes that her thoughts consumed her. A million thoughts were racing through my head too. I was longing to touch her face, to feel her in my arms again, to kiss her. I’m still not over you, she said suddenly. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. Before this issue could be taken further he arrived. His step was cautious, so were his words. We were introduced. He was well guarded and didn’t converse much. I felt nothing at his arrival, felt nothing for him. He was sizing me up but I didn’t care. In the subsequent half hour I spent with the couple, I knew he didn’t deserve her, or was that just me being unfair? I don’t want to contemplate. I didn’t want to rationalise anymore. He just doesn't deserve her, period. He put his arm around her as though he owned her. She smiled at him and turned to me with an embarrassed smile. My heart had sunk, it ached like hell. What was to help me attain closure had in actuality wounded me more. I remember telling her when we were together, how I’d die so many times a day just thinking of her because I missed her so much when she wasn’t around me. But at that very moment, I truly died! Never had I felt so sad. Never had my chest hurt so much.

Loved and Lost