My brother and I were addicts. He was a drug addict and I was addicted in my camera and photographs. My own addiction started when I was eleven years old and I could talk any beautiful girl in the village into posing the way I wanted and my father was not happy about it. My father destroyed my first ”Yashica ” but my mother got me another one. After a while I started making money by just being honest about my own addiction, I started taking about LIGHT, COMPOSITION AND MOMENTS, My addiction got worst the more I learned about those drugs.
My brothers addiction started too when he was twelve years old and for more than fifteen years I watched him go from one heavy drug to another but he smiled all the time and I could not comprehend the level of darkness around him and inside him. He was helpless, I was helpness and our country was helpless. He killed everyone around him without knowing it. He said he was going to kill me too but I hade the camera in my hand and he loved to be photographed. He loved animals too. One day we found a wounded dove in our garden and we gave it bread and water but the bird died any way and he refused to eat that day. To see him slowly die, everyday was the worse thing that has ever happened in my life. ”Oh brother where are you”