I find it amusing that when I leave my crib without a camera, I feel utterly vulnerable. Like I blundered into a war zone without a Kevlar jacket on. And as I hesitantly pick my steps from the rubble, I wait for a sniper to cut me down.

A nightmare plays over and over again in my head - I’m caught in a world-changing event and, by heavens, I have nothing in my hands except my miserable camera handphone.

The interesting part is that it takes me hours to decide whether to leave my camera behind. The internal debate starts when I wake up and ends when I lock my door. And when I do leave it behind, I spend the waking hours looking around frantically.

For when I see something sublime, something beautiful, something interesting to capture, I hear this sadly familiar sound in my head. Click.