The sun is shining a whole lot brighter today.

It shouldn't come as any surprise anymore, considering it has been this way for several days now. Still, I was hoping for the improbable that maybe today wouldn't be as sunny. Maybe the cascading light that is blinding my irises right now wouldn't make an appearance today.

That way, my mood would have comparatively less despair to endure and the showcasing of my photography would go a little more smoothly.

I do realize that my mood and profession have no relation to each other whatsoever and I'm just making a futile attempt at justifying why the sun shouldn't be out today.

I have been to a number of exhibitions in the past but this is the first one that has my work in it, not someone else's. I'm not a part of the audience this time, examining the photographs on the walls. Rather my art is going to be studied. People are going to do the observing I did whenever I went to the opening of multiple galleries.

If they are anything like me, every inch of every stroke is awaiting to be seen.

Now, I'm neither a nervous person or nor someone who gets all jittery when they're the center of attention in a crowded photo gallery. I know how to do it because I've witnessed it many times. I know the rules. It's just that it's different when it's me instead of someone else.

Good different, I hope.

The car in front of me stops moving, instead, it starts honking. I look outside the window and all the vehicles have stopped moving too. The driver adjusts the wing mirror to see whether the cars behind us have ceased.

5 minutes pass. Then 10.

"Gli ingorghi sono un grosso problema," The driver whose name I believe is Karl confirms my suspicion.

"Perché? Qual è il motivo?" I reply in the native language and look outside the other window to see if cars have moved yet or not. They haven't. All I'm hearing is noise pollution; the courtesy of horns honking endlessly. I can't be late today. The gallery opens in approximately 23 minutes. I'm supposed to be there in the same amount of time.

The driver just shrugs in response to my question. What was I expecting? How would he know what's happening? He's in the same taxi as I am.

I drum my fingers on my black jeans and proceed to wander my eyes outside. After a while of doing that, I pull out my phone and send out a text to the owner saying I'm stuck in traffic. The reply comes almost instantly.

'Hurry. People are coming already.'

Well, being that punctual is not very healthy. I decided against sending that.

I just don't want to be late.

-----

The taxi comes to a stop and I sprint inside, as fast as my legs allow me, all the while chanting a string of fuckfuckfuck in my head. If Selene was right and people are already there, they are about to get front row seats to a woman running like hell.

She was. But thankfully, in the midst of the crowd, no one noticed me. Not like they would have anyway. They haven't ever seen me, only my photography which they are seeing now. I look around for Selene and I find her perched against the wall with a drink in her hand, gesturing to my photography and possibly convincing a potential buyer to buy it.

When I reach her, her expression changes from a smile to relief. "Oh, there she is." She says less to the man, more to herself, it seems. "I was just telling him about you."

The man looks at me and matches Selene's smile when he extends out his hand for me to shake. "Amazing work."

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it." I beam at him.

"How much for this one?" He points at the same photograph she was just gesturing at and looks between both of us.

"Let me show you to the counter," Selene grins and lets the man lead. She gets ready to follow him before turning to me and saying, "You still have a speech to make. And why weren't you answering my calls? If it weren't for people buying a lot, I would be telling you off."

"Traffic. And I would like to see you try." I raise an eyebrow and she just gives me a disapproving nod. "I can never."

"I know." I smile, satisfied.

"Let me come back and let the speech begin." She says before walking away.

I look around at the faces present. It's exactly how I imagined. Some people with their arms crossed, staring intently at the art. A lot of them talking to others and repeatedly waving their hands in front of the works. The place is already filling up and only ten minutes have passed.

It's strange because this isn't a museum that is displaying my photographs. This is a small gallery owned by Selene just a few weeks ago and I'm just as new as her. She had a gallery in Bologna but she sold it and moved here recently. I make up my mind to slip into the sea of people and pretend like I'm a spectator too. From one photo to the other, I talk to others and find out their opinions. So far I'm getting positive feedback. One woman, dressed in entirely red, was particularly sweet and kept saying, 'geniale semplicemente genial!' I agreed with her. I am, in fact, brilliant. At the wave of Selene's hand; the signal I was waiting for, I walk up to the raised wooden floor, solely made for the purpose of standing a little higher than everyone else and clink the empty glass in my hand. All the attention in the room turns to me.

"I apologize for taking a few precious minutes of your time. I'm Jahanara Khan and the photographs all of you are looking at are mine." The woman in red looks like I betrayed her in some way. One minute I was conversing casually and the next I'm the force behind the work she was so enthusiastically praising. "Since this is the first time I have ever put out my photography in a gallery, I wasn't expecting this many people to show up. But I thank you for coming here today and supporting a photographer you've never heard of before. To those of you who were pulled here against their wills by their friends or family, who were convincing you by saying 'You don't know. Maybe she's good.'" A few laughs erupt at that. "I appreciate it. Grazie." Sound of claps echo in the room and Selene is clapping the hardest, giving me thumbs up afterward.

This feels so terrific. I cast a glimpse at the counter and it's lined up with buyers. Even after people resumed their focus on the pictures, I stood where I had been standing minutes earlier, with a feeling so surreal yet so good.

Good different, I found myself thinking again, this time with surety.