Sunday, April 18, 2010

Maninjau: the saga of Mr. Phone Camera and the Sunset

Her phone hangs limply from a cord around her neck. He is a diva of a phone, boldly dressed in aqua blue with a cord of checked blue and green. When he heard her turn down the offer to borrow a full-sized, full-strength photographic powerhouse for the day, he beamed with pride. He knew she turned it down because she didn't plan to take any pictures because he knew her well enough to know she didn't trust any camera to capture real life.

But just earlier today, her friend - someone who knows a thing or two about pictures - had complimented his work. He was not only a phone, he was a camera! And as he heard her discussing the anticipated beauty of the impending sunset, the phone also realised that she did have some trust in his camera. He grew excited as he hoped for a magnificent sunset, one so powerful she would not be able to resist trying to capture the moment. She would call upon his services and he would step up to the challenge.

Now, as he sat there on her lap, still tied to her neck, he felt her body tense with awe. The phone looked through his camera lens and saw the glory of a sky aglow, and he knew his dream would come true. Sure, he was underqualified, but he was a fast learner and a hard worker. The phone started to tense with anticipation, not of the sunset, but of the opportunity to capture the sunset.

He looked out his lens again and began to plot his strategy. How much lighting would he let in, to how far of a distance would he focus his lens? He looked through the tiny window and saw nothing short of the beauty of God. Something that deserved to be memorialised in a divine manner.

But... a divine manner? Who was he, little aqua-coloured phone, to think he could capture heaven? There was no way he would be able to satisfy. He would only confirm her supposition that glory cannot be captured for enjoyment at a later moment. He had not trained for this, he had not been built up enough to do this. He was just a phone. Capturing this vision was a hard enough job for a camera with all the top technology, built on the basis of extensive experience!

Limply he hung as low in her lap as he could and began to hope she wouldn't try to take a photo. As much as he longed to be worthy of the title "camera", it was a job for someone else.

(This is so like a job I was almost offered last week! It's really best I wasn't offered the job.)

Here is Mr. Phone's handiwork. Doesn't do the real thing justice, but still not bad work for one so unsuited for the job.

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