The busy road across my shop serves as a refreshing break from the monotonous silence and solitude that have made themselves permanently at home here. As a businessman you never get used to emptiness and silence around you.

It wasn’t always so. There was a time when my shop, a photo studio, would see a continuous influx of customers every day. We actually had four attendants then. There was always some work to do – passport-sized photos, full-size photos, photos of potential brides and grooms, birthdays, anniversaries – you name it. There was never a dull day around and business was thriving.

My father was alive then. This shop is the legacy that he has left behind for me. Perhaps that is why I keep running the shop even though no one comes for photos now-a-days. There is only one attendant in the shop apart from me.

Frankly, I don’t even need the income from this. I am sixty years old. I and my wife are as healthy as can be expected in our age. Our kids have completed their education and are well-settled in their jobs. I have enough savings to get through life.

Still I open the shop every morning. Is it hope? Probably a fool’s hope. I miss the joy of capturing expressions on faces. The jubilation of the first-birthday photo-shoot, the awkward shyness of the girl or the boy taking their photographs to be circulated for matrimony - I just miss freezing the special moments of a person’s life.

Through the glass-door of my studio, I see Mr.Kumar coming to the shop. Two days ago, he and his wife had taken a picture together to commemorate their fiftieth anniversary. The love and togetherness that reflected in their shared glances filled my heart with joy.

I take out the frame that contains their photo and keep it ready on the counter. Mr.Kumar comes in with a smile and his eyes brighten when he sees the frame.

“Ah, wonderful capture. Thanks for making me look much better than I am!” He says with a chuckle, his quivering voice a reflection of his age.

“My pleasure, Sir. It is refreshing to see a couple still going for photoshoots and frames in this technology-filled age when you can get all these in a click.”

He smiles at me. “Mr.Deshpande, I am 80 years old, and my wife is 75 now. We have reached the evening of our lives. When one of us gets left behind, there should be something tangible to hold on to, right?”

Stark emotions reflect on his face as he gazes at the frame and runs his trembling fingers over it gently. I know that this is the love that will exist for an entire lifetime.

In that moment, I suddenly find a purpose.

For moments like this, I will keep running the photo studio.

May be someone will need something tangible to hold on to when all is gone - a frame to capture moments for eternity.