Walid Soroor

Three men sat at a table next to us at the Delhi Heights restaurant in Jackson Heights, Queens. One of them had a very mysterious aura, a near sinister smile and an unusual confidence. His face had a strength of character that was not typical at all. But we were in one of the most ethnically diverse in the world, so it was not strictly an ethnic issue. This neighborhood is populated with an array of cultures and colors - there was something about his presence that signaled something different.
I asked my photographer friend, whose back was facing the subject, to steal a glance. He did and confirmed my sentiments. The situation begged for a photo, but photographing people in public is tricky and at point blank range in a restaurant without permission is not appropriate. It is at best met with tolerance at worst met with unknown consequences. It is not public space and restaurant owners want the privacy of their customers respected.
My imagination had already created wild scenarios of who this might be and what he did. When he stepped out of the restaurant, I pondered my options and decided on a strategy to involve his friends. I got up, approached their table and told one of them that I found the man who stepped out extremely interesting looking and asked whether he thought his friend would be amenable to having a photo taken upon his return. His response was that he would ask. And my instincts were right. The mystery man was actually a singing superstar in Afghanistan. Upon his return, a short conversation ensued in a language foreign to me - but the smiles needed no translation and it was clear that permission had been granted. No surprise, now knowing that this man spends his life in front of the public and cameras.
He was quite gracious and conversation traveled across tables as I shot. He complemented my camera.  I responded my friend was armed with a much better tool - a Nikon D3. He noted that it is the man behind the camera, not the camera itself that made a good photo. He was familiar with our photo equipment and said he was also a videographer.
Still there was some pieces of this puzzle yet to be explained. Why the odd smile - almost a sinister grimace? I overheard him say that he had just had dental work done - he spoke of getting a perfect job, $8000 worth of work. Local anesthesia and numbness would explain his unusual facial expressions. However, this was itself puzzling. Who gets that much dental work done on the road away from home?
I was told that a dentist at his performance was so pleased with his performance that he offered to do extensive work at no charge. He would be returning to New York for completion of the work. We exchanged email addresses and names. His name - Walid Soroor. A immediate search when I arrived home confirmed what I had been told. Walid's brother, Waheed Soroor, has a full page entry in Wikipedia where Walid is cited. YouTube has numerous videos of Walid performing internationally. His companion, who negotiated on my behalf, is acclaimed tabla artist Qais Ulfat - see here. The third member of the group was their manager, completing a real life entourage - see here.
All the pieces of the puzzle had now come together. I reflected on how I was not only guilty of poor detective work but had once again misjudged a book by its cover. Another lesson about the surprises behind the faces of New York, this one brought to you courtesy of Qais Ulfat and Walid Soroor :)

Related Postings: Jackson Diner, Jackson Heights, Indian Gold, The Patel Brothers, Only In New York.