The Smile of a Photojournalist
I was laying on my backpack. On the street of Yi Wo Street in Causeway Bay, listening Rock Mafia’s The Last Thing and reading Acemoğlu & Robinson’s Why Nations Fail.
Massive people kept passing by.
Some stopped to take a few shots of the drawings or slogans at the scene, some simply took photos of themselves participating in the movement (making those others as background scenario) , some spared some time sitting and talking to their companies, some gathered in big groups and engaged in conversations of ideas exchange.
Others just kept silent. Reading news and receiving updates from their networks. No police force on the streets.
They were here for different reasons.
Then he came over. I notice someone’s watching me. He was smiling at me and reading the title of the book I was reading.
I smiled. He naturally raised his camera and shot me.
That’s the best moment of the day. The day was long and grueling.
Thank you. The Sikh photojournalist who’s wearing a turban and killed me with a beaming smile.
Photo Credit ©TSOI WAI KWAN
