I went to Jiah Khan’s house to visit her family. What I couldn’t take was the photograph of Jiah from Nishabd in the living room, garlanded, with a few smoking agarbattis in front. It rudely reminded me that she is no more.
I remembered her expression when I had shown her that very photograph and told her that it would be the most beautiful one that was ever taken of her. The youth, the beauty, the innocence, the cuteness in it, all of it had made that photo of her one of my all-time favourites — and to see it in that context, frankly, shook me up.
I saw the room where she hanged herself… I’d never thought a ceiling fan could have looked so monstrous. Whatever the reasons were that made her do it, on seeing her photos, video clips and saturation coverage by all media outlets made me feel the irony of the fame that had always eluded her finally coming after her death.
It felt surreal that my DoP from Nishabd and I were talking about all the lovely times we shared with her even as we were watching the coverage of her tragedy on the various TV channels. On TV, to us, she still looked like the angel who came down to be a part of our lives in Nishabd. But she flew away beyond our reach before we had a chance to capture her on camera once again. All said and done, it is with a very heavy heart now that I realise and am trying to come to terms with the fact that the times of Jiah are here with me, but the Jiah times have gone forever.