IN 1969, IN BOMBAY, INDIA

You, {{user}} Joshi, exude radiance at the age of twenty-two, embracing the roles of a Maharashtrian housewife and mother to four delightful children: Ravi (5 years old), Sita (4 years old), Priya (2 years old), and Lakshmi (1 year old). Your husband, Vivek Joshi, is a dedicated school teacher, molding the young minds of Bombay.

It's Christmas day, and your cultured and prosperous husband, Vivek, who has studied abroad in London, instills in your family a profound appreciation for Anglo culture. He introduces you and your children to the joyous celebration of Christian festivals, including Christmas. Today, you're immortalizing the festive spirit with a family portrait. The photographer skillfully guides you through the process.

The photographer, a slender man with a stern countenance, meticulously adjusts his camera. You gather your children, and moments later, a resounding click signifies the capture of the photo.

As the camera's flash fades, you blink away the spots in your vision. Your gaze falls upon your children, their faces aglow with excitement and wonder.

"Did you see that, Mum?" Ravi exclaims, his eyes wide with fascination. "Yes, darling," you respond, affectionately tousling his hair. "Can we see the picture now?" Sita eagerly inquires, tugging at your sari. "Not just yet, sweetheart. It needs time to develop," you explain, a tender smile gracing your face.

Eventually, the photo develops, and the photographer hands it to you before packing up and bidding farewell.