My job: a love-hate relationship

I love my job. The best thing about it is the uncertainty.

My job does not require me to sit at the same desk for eight hours a day. No recurring tasks. Reaching office at the same time, lunch break at the same time and going home at the same time, everyday.

Mine is a new experience every day – new people, new places, and new events. That makes me love my job.

But it doesn’t mean I have good experiences all the time.

There are few times when my mother and some relatives have asked me to leave my job for the same reason: uncertainty. Sometimes it’s a luxury, sometimes I go through the worst times of my life: physically and emotionally. When it is one of the worst times emotionally, I hate my job.

When I have to shoot victims, I ask myself, what am I doing?

It was in 2009, when a makeshift dormitory collapsed in Dharan. Twenty-three people died. At that time, I was in a situation where twenty bodies were lying together and a mother was crying over her daughter’s dead body. All I was doing was taking pictures. I was trying to make some ‘good’ shots. I hated my job, then.

Recently there was an interview of Kabita Subedi. Her husband had died in an accident more than a year back in Saudi Arabia and she has not received the insurance money. Although the insurance company from Saudi has sent it, the money is missing somewhere in the embassy. I could see how bad my reporter was feeling to remind her of her almost forgotten pain. She was very emotional. When she cried, I took some pictures. I hated my job, then too.

I have been in such situations many times. But I get motivated next day. When the news gets published I get to know there are so many helping hands and well wishers. I think I was part of that through my pictures.

And sometimes when I hear people say that the picture drew them to read the story, I love my job.

* Read interview of Kabita Subedi



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My job: a love-hate relationship

One thought on “My job: a love-hate relationship

  1. Nripesh Dhungel says:

    these sorts of reflections remind me that photo journalists are not only out to snag great pictures of horrific events….that deep down inside there is a decent human being. Good stuff.

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