The stranger from New Orleans
There I was, walking the streets of New Orleans, I had my camera in my hand, I was tired and hungry, but most of all, I was eager to find something to photograph, a unique and special moment. It was when I realized that this man standing on the other side of the road, smoking his cigarette. He was watching the street singers who were performing near the cafe shop. It was New Orleans above all, a city that breathes jazz and blues, which tastes seafood and Louisiana spices. The artists played an old song. I didn’t know the title of the song, but I was certain that I had heard that song several times before. In the midst of this, of so much confusion, people coming and going, taking care of their lives, there he was this man, unconcerned, as quiet as a librarian, with his cigarette in his hand. He just stood there.
I stood there as well, across the road, standing there, like a private detective hired by a wife who distrusts her husband. I watched him from across the road. I was alert, I did not want to let him out of my sight. He kept quiet, and just moved his arm to put the cigarette back in his mouth and took it off every now and then again when he inhaled the nicotine from his cheap cigarette. But it was his eyes who held me there, Almost five minutes later. His eyes reflect emotions lived in a distant past and only memories remained.
I managed to see through those eyes, the nostalgic feelings and with a bit of regret, perhaps! I could see beyond those eyes, the nostalgic feeling and a piece of regret, perhaps! It was as if the music would take him back to places he could never be again. And he, calm as a meditating monk, reminisced those moments. As of me, I am uncertain of what I want for me when I am as old as him, but as for that moment, I was satisfied. I had got the perfect photograph I so desired after all.