It was during a routine drive across the Alexander Parambithara Bridge that I came upon a sight that instantly struck a nerve: a pair of stretches—the kind often used by those with disabilities—lying beside a pair of slippers near the railing of the bridge. Something about it felt wrong. Very wrong.
As a few others gathered, including a senior-ranking naval officer, it was confirmed: someone had jumped into the waters below. Moments later, we all spotted him—a man afloat, barely moving, yet unmistakably alive, with the most haunting eyes I’ve ever seen, staring upwards.
People yelled from the bridge, urging him to grab on to something. He didn’t. He floated, resisting help, until the current carried him beyond the reach of my lens—or my eyes.
Then, from the sky, came hope. A naval chopper, almost suddenly, descended into the scene and airlifted the man to a nearby naval hospital. Despite the efforts, he succumbed to his injuries.
As a journalism student or photojournalist, never underestimate the power of being present and observant. Stories often unfold in real time. Your instincts—paired with compassion, ethics, and clarity—are your tools. This wasn’t just a report; it was an experience. Sometimes, the camera captures less than the heart does.