“Main aapki ek photo khinch lun?” I ask her reluctantly. With a lack of enthusiasm, she nods her head.

I’ve just clicked a couple of pictures when she nitpicks, “Meri shakal toh bandar jaisi hai, meri photo kabhi acchi nahi aati.”

“Aap pose mat karo, apna kaam karo, main aise se click karungi. Phir aap dekhna,” I cheer her up.

I wait till the tension eases off her face. The moment she is her natural self, I start firing the shutter button continuously. Her uneasiness gives way to a faint smile. A few more shots and she bursts into a spontaneous laugh.

I then show her the pictures. She is amazed and happily admits that she likes them, especially a couple of them.

“Aap meri photo kyu le rahi ho? Aap yeh photo ka kya karogi? Mujhe batao na. Aap baitho main chai banati hun.”

I already feel at home in her little shop and tell her how I would like my tea – less milk, less sugar and strong.

I look around and get some more shots while she earnestly prepares tea.

She is super excited and shouts out to the lady in the next shop, “Yeh dekho meri dukaan ka photoshoot ho raha hai.”

She has a host of questions for me. She has now asked me thrice about what I intend to do with the pictures.

I’d always been keen on street photography and having finally bought the much awaited prime lens, I had been longing to go out and explore. This was my first day of walking around with my camera. I had started with random objects, animals, rickshaws etc. With people I was hesitant. I’d only clicked a few who were not aware of being captured. She was the first woman I’d hesitatingly asked permission for.

Now how do I explain that to her? Do I tell her that she was just a subject for my frame? That I was capturing pots and pans, eggs and other common objects to portray the beauty of simple things in life? Or that hers would be just another picture in my ‘Street Photography’ Album?

I’d these thoughts floating in my mind when she asked me yet again, “Meri dukaan toh itni choti hai. Yahan toh kuch bhi shandaar nahi hai. Yahan kya kichoge?”

“Aap aisa kyu bol rahe ho? Koi bhi kaam chota ya bada nahi hota,” I tell her.

And now it is my turn to ask. How long has she been working here? Where is her husband? How many children does she have and how old are they? These are just some of the many questions I have in mind.

Tea is ready. I ask her to wait because I like it a little cold. So we begin talking.

She’s Ranju and has been running this shop single-handedly, with some support from her parents, for the past fifteen years. She works seven days from 7 am to 10 pm. She only takes ten days off during Chhath and other times when absolutely necessary. She has toiled hard to make ends meet and educate her three children – Nitu, Nitan and Vishnu.

Her husband doesn’t do any work. As she talks about him, tears well up in her eyes and she immediately wipes them away with her the edge of her sari. I place my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. From her talks, I infer that she was subjected to physical abuse.

“Aajkal ladkiyon ko kaam karna bahut jaroori hai. Unhe apne pairon pe khada hona chahiye. Unko kisi pe bhi nirbhar nahi hona chahiye.” I agree.

Nitu, the elder daughter is married and stays in Ghaziabad. I tell her I too was in Delhi for some years. This brings a smile on her face. The other two children are studying. She wants the son to get into some business but she is more concerned about her daughter’s education.

“Main mann se bahut saaf hun, sabse acche se baat karti hun. Aap aake yahan baithi, aapne mujhe respect diya mujhe bahut accha laga. Ab main kitni baat kar rahi hun aapse.”

“Main apni beti ke saath bhi friend jaise rehti hun. Maine toh bol diya hai use ki agar who kisi ladke ko pasand kare to mujhe bata de, bhaag ke shaadi na kare. Main khud jaungi baat karne.”

She then talks about her parents and says they have supported her a lot. “Main kisi Bhagwaan ki puja nahi karti. Mere Bhagwaan mere maa-baap hain.”

“Oh main bhi kitna bolti hun. Chai toh bahut thandi ho gayi hogi.”

“Nahi, chalega. Abhi peete hai,” I tell her.

We sip our tea and chit-chat like two long lost pals.

I connect with her on so many levels. It's true, no work is big or small. It does not matter what strata of society you come from, or how old you are! A good heart and an intention to do good is what matters.

I have to get going and so I leave with the promise of visiting her again.

I then tell myself that I will share her story. People like Ranju are indeed an inspiration. Despite facing numerous hardships, she did not quit. Instead she chose to take control of her life and steer it in a positive direction.

Yes pictures do speak a thousand words. But sometimes pictures are not enough.

I realize that there are many such stories to be told. I am optimistic about clicking yes, but I am all the more determined about sharing more stories.