On Facebook, Gaanam Nair presents herself as “photographer for conceptual shoots. Model at times.”
Chennai woman Gaanam Nair, 28, is missing since Friday
Massive online campaign launched for information on her
Her Instagram and Facebook posts allude to dark relationships
Gaanam Nair, who went missing in Chennai on Friday, triggered a huge online hunt to locate her. This afternoon, she returned home with police sources describing her as “in depression.”
Ms Nair, who is 28, uses social media extensively. On Instagram, her public account has over 10,000 followers. She describes herself as “in love with the ocean” and states a preference for “books over people.” Some of her posts allude to a darkness. A photograph of a young woman lying next to a bearded man, his hand at her throat, it captioned “Strangle.” Another that appears to refer to her room-mate talks of “a love I don’t deserve.” She is not averse to using the F-word frequently. The images she shares are gripping, many of them shore-side, others are intimate portraits of couples or young women.
Ms Nair works at a salon as a marketing executive, but on Facebook, she presents herself as “photographer for conceptual shoots. Model at times”.
She left for work on Friday as usual on her motorbike, but did not reach her office. Her cellphone was switched off. She lives with her aunt and cousins. Her mother died a few years ago and her father is based in Delhi.
On Facebook, she writes of the conundrum of sharing online” “Waiting for that day when we create something and not put it on social media.”
Ms Nair also talks of herself as a writer.
A post on March 12 describes the coming together of lovers and an apparently troubled relationship including an “ugly fight”.
“The times we exposed our souls, the hysteric laughs, when I broke down for my lost love, when you took a piss in front of me, when you let me in on your secrets, when we made sweet love, the wild sex, the messy failed attempts, we kept going up and up the ladder,” she writes.
“You slap me. You slap me crying, desperate, “Get up Gaanam, get up.” When you see I can’t, you tie my body to yours, scroll up the ladder, failing, falling. After repeated attempts, you fall to the floor, screaming. You lie down there, looking up, screaming again. I crawl to you, hold you, hug you, kissing you, calming you down.”