And then on the other side towards the fields, I saw a baby donkey standing, so I just thought I’d take a picture of this baby donkey, because — but because I had a small camera with a fixed lens, so I needed to get closer. When I went closer, the baby donkey started running. So, the kids were standing around, they started laughing. So, I started chasing the baby donkey, so the children can have fun. So, that was going on till the baby donkey got tired of running and stood still for me, and I took one picture, focused on him and on his big head and the landscape was fading. It was late evening, so the landscape was fading.
But that picture — when I came back, my brother processed the film and he saw that picture and he thought it was a bloody good picture. This was in ’60s, 1966, 67. And at that time, The London Times, used to print weekend pictures on every Saturday. We tried some strange thing happening or some ironic situations, so The Times printed a half-page picture of mine with a big byline, so this I thought was a nice big kick for me that they printed my name and they gave me money, which was enough for me to go on for a month.1 I said, “Not a bad idea.”2