They loved to go to the hills. Every November, Jun never misses an opportunity to ask Akakh for ride to Shillong, where the hills and the cherry trees are located.The hills also serve them an escape to walk beneath the cherry trees. These trees on the hills exhibit their light pinkish flowers in November. The light pinkish colour as a texture evenly spread on the petals of the cherry flower looked fragile when noticed in a single form. When in abundance the flowers signify a strong message of peace. “The rough trunk bearing trees adorning pinkish crowns seem like cotton candies,” Often Jun would say. Ever since Akakh took Jun to Shillong he couldn’t say no to Jun whenever she asked for a visit to the hills and when the flowers bloomed.
On a beautiful Friday morning both of them set off to Shillong. Gradually descending fog blanketed the highway and biting cold kissed and caressed their every exposed skin. “The chill here is so different from Guwahati isn’t it,” Akakh said. “Yes. We could feel it as soon as we pass Jorabaat” Jun confirmed.
“This time we need to capture better photos,” Jun suddenly remarked from behind. With Akakh’s moving at around 65 km/hr on his motorcycle, wind blew through her hair and let them dance in the air with the effect. She was riding the pillion. The lazy winter sun managed to peek from the clouds and bathed the road with warmth. Akakh didn’t give up on his motorcycle although it turned 10 that year. The Indian brand still brandished a remarkable fuel efficiency feat. On several occasions to the hilly state Akakh had even witnessed rough time on his motorcycle. The tank had once leaked oil; he again had to come down 15 kms. to fix it. “Hope nothing wrong turns up this time,” Akakh muttered to himself. The last time Jun heard about malfunctions she scolded him. “Why didn’t you bring your brother’s bike. You shouldn’t have brought it if you were not sure,” she had said. In the meantime, Jun inclined on Akakh’s back as the motorcycle slithered like a snake on the curvy highway to Shillong.
“The pictures looked great last year too,” Akakh said. The muffler round his neck blocked his reply to Jun.
“Yes, after I adjusted the angles for you. You don’t know to click pictures missing out the better angles,” Jun giggled, she liked teasing him.
The Cherry Blossom trees could be seen from Umium itself. The hill opposite to the lake has abundance of it. End of autumn makes the trees bloom, which heralds onset of winter in Meghalaya. In other parts of the world Cherry trees bloom in Spring . A festival connected to the blooming of the trees was also underway and Wards Lake park in Shillong was decorated like a bride. Lights attached with strings were stretched from every one end to the other. Makeshift structures were installed underneath the Cherry trees for visitors to pose for numerous photos. It was a place of joy for everyone. Perhaps an only park with a lake as a feature in both Guwahati and Shillong combined. Cherry and pine trees majorly inhabited the space. The trees in some parts canopied the paths that ran through the heart of the park. Akakh and Jun soon found themselves on a high rise.
“This is a good spot. The trees will be noticeable background,” Jun declared. She dropped her backpack and monitored the spot. It was a taller high rise compared to the others and it faced the lake surrounded by more cherry trees.
Akakh took out his phone and tried clicking one when Jun was still monitoring the spot. She looked up to a distance and turned towards Akakh. She smiled. Click…click….click… He tried the continuous shot feature in his phone.
“Show me,” Jun said. She came running to him.
“Wow! Please click more and then I will click yours,” Jun again ran to the same spot to pose again thinking Akakh doing wonder with the phone camera.
“Excuse me! Can I click pictures of you guys? I charge 30 Rs. for 10 photos,” a lean boy in 20’s with a DSLR round his neck spoke from behind the spot Jun was posing.
Akakh and Jun looked at each other with confusion. “I will delete pictures in front of you and I am just doing it for pocket money and being passionate,” he continued.
“Ok sure! Will you click 40 pictures out of 100 Rs,” Jun offered a deal to the boy. The boy nodded.
“Come na..” Jun signaled Akakh. He couldn’t figure out the quick deal.
Akakh pulled the collar of his jacket and raised the sleeve. She stood behind her underneath a lonely cherry tree on the particular high rise. Their wide smiles depicted the inner joy developed with the effect of the cloudy November in Shillong. Click..Click..
This time Jun looked at Akakh’s eyes. She gazed in the process. She gazed in his eyes the way she laid her eyes on him the first time he came to meet her. They could feel the same affection and love and they smiled to each other. He came an inch or two forward and wrapped his arm round her waist. Click…click.. The camera let out sounds of speedy shutter.
“Let’s recreate the pose once we did,” Jun urged Akakh. With the camera man standing behind, they both stood facing the lake looking towards the sky. “Stand at a distance similar to the one,” Jun directed Akakh.
After both of them having clicked together Jun asked the photographer for some singles. The photographer turned more professional with the idea. He clicked in every possible way. He lay on the ground for couple of them. Even for some pictures he stretched his legs and nearly did a split in the process. He would click continuously few shots and look on the display of the camera to confirm.
Jun this time placed one hand on her waist and raised the other hand near her face. She posed looking elsewhere thinking something hopeful.
“That’s a good candid,” the photographer muttered to himself.
“Mam, see towards the camera!” The photographer would shout.
“Come closer, look right,” The photographer would advise. Jun followed suit.
An hour passed. The photographer clicked around 40 photos, mostly of Jun. Akakh handed a hundred rupee note to the boy and bade him farewell. “I wish you good luck,” Jun thanked the boy. “My pleasure mam,”
That night Akakh and Jun couldn’t stop drooling over the photos. Akakh already set one of them as his mobile display background. Beautiful pictures of Jun in grey jacket and black jeans flooded her social media platforms.
“I am so satisfied with the pictures,” Jun said, looking up at Akakh from her mobile screen. Akakh still glued to the photos beaming from his mobile. “Don’t forget to mention his name while mentioning about the photos. Wait a minute did you ask his name?” Akakh asked raising his head. At least he didn’t. Jun had no answers. She looked back to Akakh with guilt. A feeling of remorse filled the room. Having unable to pay a feedback to the gratitude Akakh and Jun repeatedly felt the urge to ask the photographer his name. But it was already too late.
