IHSAN KHAIRIR

“The young cannot be blamed for not knowing what it’s like to be old, but the old is guilty of forgetting what it’s like to be young”

Or something of the sort. Guess where the quote came from, for bragging rights.

Innocence. I can’t help but notice how little children emanate their glow of youthful innocence whenever they have fun.

They are honest and frank. They do not deviously insult nor flatter. They speak their minds and express their honest opinion on anything, without fear of being judged.

Kids don’t wear a mask on their faces. They cry when they are sad, and laugh when they are happy. They don’t pretend to be excited when they’re not, and when they do become excited, they honestly are.

When they do things to make you happy, you know they’re not doing them because they had to. They do them because they want to. And seing your happy face, in turn, makes them happy as well. And that is enough for everyone, both you and them.

I long for the same youthful innocence, for I feel like it has left me for quite some time.

This is my youngest brother Abu. He is currently six years old.

It seems that he shares my interest in photography. I remember the day the above photo was taken. It was at a family gathering, and I was happily snapping pictures of the family younglings before I realized that Abu was doing the exact same thing using my sister Kim’s camera. I guess we are more alike than I previously thought.

He has his mood swings when it comes to being photographed though. There’d be times when he absolutely refuses to have his picture taken and would make a scene if he discovers that somebody just snapped a picture of him without his consent. Other times he’d be super excited to be photographed and would do funny and interesting poses and demand to see the photos immediately after they were snapped. And during such times I would take the chance of exploring photography with Abu as my subject; the most recent results of which can be see in the following pictures.

It was one fine Sunday morning at the pavilion in Putrajaya Wetlands that I saw Abu climbing up and jumping down some terraces. I noticed that the bright morning sun in the sky has caused my eyes to adjust to the brightness, thus rendering everything into dark silhouettes. I immediately took out my camera and snapped up some silhouette photos of my brother.

He saw that I was taking photos of him and alhamdulillah, he’s in the mood for pictures. So I had him jump a few more times…

… and let him strike a few poses of his own.

I love it when he uses his own creativity to pose. It makes the photo more honest and sincere and more reflective of his own identity. When I look at the photos, I would remember his energy and excitement and the innocence of his youth. And it’s the sincerity and frankness in these photos that make them all the more memorable and priceless.

I would surely miss moments like these when Abu grows up…

They are pure, untainted, and clear. And if we look carefully, we can actually see ourselves in their eyes. We see what they see. And maybe if we learn to look at ourselves through children’s eyes, life wouldn’t be as complicated as it has been.

I wish I have a child’s pure and untainted eyes.