Being the camera person means you hold power, control. You may be camera shy, but your skill at the camera determines how the person at the other end will be captured for posterity. Unless of course, the other person is immensely photogenic.

Like my dad. Although I think he is getting too old to be photogenic all the time, his boyish looks succumbing finally to time. The same photographer can churn out photos of my mom, sister and me looking like refugees from some war torn land, or some deer caught in the headlines. My dad comes off perfectably respectable, with a hint of friendliness and small boy cheekiness and a rugged masculinity. (Just the face and shoulders, the rugged image tends to wear thin when you photograph his full body with the beer belly.)

And of course you may not like the camera fullstop. That's fine with me. I am not quibbling about your shyness or your distaste concerning cameras.

I like looking at photos and how people react within the frame itself. The body language speaks volumes. I enjoy it. Perhaps it is my character as a quiet person who has a raw deal of need for control, to know for security's sake. Maybe somewhat manipulative. And of course I like scanning the pictures to examine the faces of people in there.

How many of us have the opportunity to examine in minute detail, the faces of people we know? To look too closely and too long would be an invasion of personal space. We are furtive and secretive in our gazes to try and capture the full mental image of a person. You might say, "That sounds extremely sly and off-putting!"

But it is not. Can you build up inch by inch in your mind, the face of a friend? We never see a person's face, not in its entirety. We only receive bibs and bobs of impressions, the nose, the eyes, the skin, the shape of the face... and then try to put it together. Or perhaps, we store fleeting images of the person we are talking to. If you are lucky, it is a clear impression.

But to gaze at the whole length and travel from one landmark to the other, that's different. We seldom get to do that. It is as I have said, an invasion of personal space. Only our love ones allow us to scruntise the face without getting too uncomfortable, simply because we are already welcome in their personal space.

How many of us have met the person with the penetrating gaze and not have the innate urge to fidget or shy away? The camera is the less authorative, less intrusive version of the person who is going to look at you. After all, it is a thing, not a person. You may not feel comfortable, but at least, you are willing to endure the gaze of the camera. And the person who looks at your photo gets to see you in your full glory.

Trace the bridge of the nose. The tilt of the eyes. The smile. How it lingers near the eyes and the mouth. The little beauty spot on the cheek. A scar on the forehead. All legacies of who you are and what you are. Few people get to see them, without the photographs. And perhaps, instinctively, private people do not like being photographed because of such subconscious recognition of the vulnerability behind being photographed.

And looking at the photographs I have of Paladin and me taken earlier this year, I would say the schism of the recent days were there already. The arching of the back, the shying away to put the best possible distance between him and me, the startled and unnatural smile. The signs were all there, if you knew where to read it. A similar photo taken just after with a different person. The smile is more relaxed, there is a symmetry in the stance.