A photographic memory

Sayesha is writing a thesis.

Wait, that makes me sound like a nerd.

Let me rephrase that.

Dissertation. Sayesha is writing a dissertation. On Bollywood.

"Sayesha is writing a dissertation on Bollywood."

Ah, that sounds much better.

So yesterday, I went for my second meeting with my supervisor, and he lent me this book 'To be or not to be: Amitabh Bachchan' to use as reference for my dissertation. It's a 4-kg book (yes, I weighed it when I got home retired hurt from lugging it back). And you can kill a man with it.

So during our meeting, he suddenly asked me, "I forgot to ask you this in the first meeting, but why did you pick me to be your supervisor?" And he asked me that very seriously. I knew why he was asking that. To make sure I was not a 'bouncee'. Since he does not teach me any subject, he was wondering if I was one of those whom every other professor in uni had rejected -- the 'bouncees' -- and if after bouncing around, I had resorted to asking random professors if they would agree to supervise me.

I had seen this question coming. But it was a long and weird story why I'd picked him.

"It's a long and weird story, Sir."

"Go on. I'm listening."

"I first met you about six years ago I think. For like five minutes. We met at the Canteen 2 bus stop and you asked me if I was from India. You gave me your card, and told me you had worked as a photojournalist for 'India Today'. You invited me to an Antakshari party you were having at your place. And then my bus came and I left.

And then I never met you after that. I graduated in 2002, and have been working for the last 3 years in the east, far far away from uni.

When I moved to the west 3 weeks ago, during packing and unpacking, I discovered a lot of stuff that I had lost. And found your card amongst it. And since I refuse to do my dissertation on anything but Bollywood, I figured you'd be the perfect supervisor. But I wasn't sure if you were still around as you could have been a visiting professor. After all, it had been so many years. But I looked you up on the uni website and found you. And that's how this came about."

"Stroke of luck, huh?"

"Yeah! To remember all this and find you again six years later at the right time!" I leaned back in the chair, beaming with pride at my fantastic memory.

"Five." He looked at me and smiled mysteriously.

"I'm sorry?"

"Five years, Sayesha. Not six."

"Huh?"

"I met you at the Canteen 2 bus stop in 2000. It's been five years. You had longer hair and you were not as thin as you are now."

My jaw dropped. It literally dropped.

"You remember me? From that one brief meeting five years ago?? How???"

"I'm a photographer, Sayesha." He smiled.