The Bird That Made Me Think of Jiya
One Frame, Two Mothers.
Padma Lohiya
9/19/20262 min read
There are photographs that we take because they are beautiful.
And then there are photographs that unexpectedly touch something deep within us—something that has very little to do with the photograph itself.
This is one of those photographs.
I was on one of my trips, away from home, immersed in the excitement of exploring a new place and looking for birds. Photography has taken me to many beautiful corners, and over the years I have learnt to lose myself in those moments—watching, waiting, observing, and patiently pressing the shutter when the right moment arrives.
That day, I saw a Yellow-throated Sparrow feeding its chick.
I watched the little one being fed, completely dependent on its parent. It was such a simple, natural moment. But the moment I captured it, something inside me shifted.
My first thought was not about the photograph.
It was about Jiya.
My younger daughter is eleven years old, and no matter where I am travelling, somewhere in the back of my mind, she is always there.
I suddenly wondered—
“Has Jiya eaten her food today?”
I know she is not a little chick. I know she is eleven, perfectly capable of telling me that she is hungry, asking for something to eat, or managing without me for a few hours.
Yet, that is perhaps what motherhood is.
Even when your children grow, a part of you continues to worry about the smallest things.
Have they eaten?
Are they comfortable?
Did they sleep well?
Are they happy?
Did someone take care of them when I wasn't there?
Standing there, looking at that tiny bird feeding its chick, I felt an unexpected ache in my heart. For a moment, the distance between where I was and where Jiya was felt much bigger than the miles on a map.
I had travelled to photograph a bird.
Instead, the bird photographed something inside me—a mother's instinct that never really switches off.
Photography has given me countless beautiful memories. But sometimes, the most meaningful photographs are not the ones that simply record what we saw. They are the ones that remind us of what we feel.
This little Yellow-throated Sparrow will always remind me of Jiya.
Of her eleven-year-old self.
Of the little girl who still occupies a very large corner of my heart.
And perhaps, wherever I travel in the years to come, a small part of me will always be wondering—
“I wonder if my little girl has eaten her food.”
Happy Birthday, Jiya. ❤️
No matter how far I travel,
you are never far from my thoughts.
