13- Through the Lens: Grit in the Glow of Curry
Not every client was welcoming.
One owner screamed at me the moment I arrived—furious that I started setting up during lunch hours.
The restaurant was empty. But his nerves were full, waiting for his hungry customers.
Still, I didn’t flinch.
I told myself: You may hate that I’m here, but I’m going to give you the best damn photos you’ve ever had.
And I did.
Every time I pressed the shutter,
“F*ck COVID-19!”
“F*ck COVID-19!”
“F*ck COVID-19!”
—that’s exactly what I was thinking.
Then there were the kind ones.
Nepali-run curry shops, the quiet heroes of Japan’s immigrant dreams.
They always gave me a bag of food after the shoot.
Hot naan, rich dal, spicy biryani.
Each one handed me a meal wrapped with humility and hope.
I’d bring it home.
My partner’d be waiting.
We’d eat together, sharing stories and bites, often more food than we could finish.
We had no money, no security—
but those meals were rich in every way that mattered.
Shooting, eating, listening—
it was all blending together.
I wasn’t just surviving. I was transforming.
Every photo I took was proof:
I’m not done. I’m learning. I’m building something real.
No virus, no angry shop owner, no hardship could take that from me.
And with her by my side,
I began to believe I could create a life not just worth photographing—
but worth living.
