Picture stories

eyes

watching

stories; in the mind

a house

a bungalow

trees
shade
stairs
and
balustrades

drying
wet hair
with
sunshine on the face
on
cane chairs
surrounded by
lazy
hand held fans

Goa

a breeze
a verandah

iron benches
with baroque designs

whitewashed walls
with high ceilings

glasses
wine
newspapers
shades of maroon
and earth

Watching
stories
in slow motion
with almost a smile
inside

as I stood watching
this lovely lovely house

Ceramic pigeons

The little girl with the wooden sandals
Tapping away on the walkway
And in the rain
Seeking C'mas
And words.
Beer gardens and coffee gardens
Never found
Number 38 which I wanted
Number 34 which I didnt.
Measuring the weeks
And the options
Holding on, off and on
In the rain.
Tap tap tap tap
Goes the sidewalk
On this day
In the rain.

You. On this day. At this time.

Ground coffee from Bali
Lebanese baklava
Words, thoughts, ideas, wishes, a few tears, a few plans
Green trees and faraway skycrapers
And friends
Are in my thoughts this morning.
Those I know well
And those I have never met
You are in my thoughts today.


E.Gilbert, you of the three chapters.
D.Singh, sadness. at the way your were treated.
E.VB, I hope you are enjoying the train ride and when you get down the wind blows your hair around and gives you a refreshing start in the weekend city.
T.Li, I think of your long walks on the road in the busy traffic. Reminders to get out of office and get on with life. Cheers.
Beeps, I know you are with your kids and I see you walking with them and I see you smile. For your words of wisdom always I thank you. And for your patience, and love.
J., as I read this book I think of you in Dharamsala and the vipassana discussions and I see your hair and you make a smile and laughter hide in my cheecks raring to burst out.
Suu..I imagine you in Doon and Delhi. I think of you. And I see you giving presentations with that rushed diction of yours. Stay happy.
T.Myers, I remember your message and I have been meaning to write to you for months. I hope your Saturday starts as a bright sunny day and you have a lovely breakfast with your wife.
Shimla Galimauffry, I am thinking of your pictures and your desciptions and your words. As I imagine my travels, I think of the buildings and the atmosphere you capture. I hope your Saturday is relaxed and lazy and full of the explorations you enjoy.
Lash. Health and happiness.
and M. Gopinath. I have been thinking a lot of the balance you have.


A big hug to you all
On this day
At this time
You are in my thoughts.

Birdsong

Its amazing how clear the sound of this one bird is. And how familiar. I hear it every day. Just the right decibel level. And just the right mix of I don't quite know what. I can hear it now. It is somewhere on one of the lush green trees of the neighbouring garden. It makes me think of spring. Newspapers. Lawns. Lazy afternoons. Napping in the sun. And mango orchards.

Concepts

I said to someone the other evening "I want to go home". And thinking about it later, realised I didn't quite know what I meant..wonder how many people actually do. Those who do know, are really quite lucky.

..Dilemmas..

(Almost) Perfect depiction of the mental state of last few months.
Sometimes decision time really does suck.

Silence

On the road

Traffic in the morning peak office rush hour today was held up by an elephant (what the...!) strolling along on one of the main highways of South Delhi, totally oblivious to the vehicles honking away. After a while people gave up and just followed the elephant wryly.

On the way back from work, close to home, two tiny little confused calves have been standing in the middle of the road darting to a side and then suddenly hopping right back in the middle of the busy road. These two must have given a scare to countless drivers today. Traffic has been crawling around them, while they play hopscotch.

Rush hour traffic? Hmm thats two mysteries solved today.

:-)

Shoepolish-wallahs and monkeys darting across roads..

Delhi and Delhi-ites seem to be rushing around to fill the few days of still bearable summer evenings with outdoor activities. One such event was a live symphony and orchestra by the children of Prayas, providing a live soundtrack of a silent movie on Delhi, which was also made by the children.

Forts, monuments, heritage, children, life, struggle, hope, traffic, movement, dusk, light, glare, baloons, brooms, shoepolish-wallahs and monkeys darting across roads. Heading out of the home for an hour of this was well worth it.

The hills. Today morning.

The wind.
Soft drizzle on the corrugated roof.
Distant chimes of a bell. Its a temple. I know.
A child crying in one of the distant cottages.
Crows.
Rain.
Mist.
Clouds.
Raindrops splattering on the ground, on leaves, on trees. Loud.
The wind. Gets a word in every few seconds. Getting bolder with each try.
A man walking on a path. On the only hill that I can see in the mist.
Silent footsteps.
Monkeys bounding across the tin roof, seeking shelter from the rain. Jarr the senses. Wake you up from your thoughts.

The morning is full of the silence of the hills, and the sounds.

The kindness of strangers

Among the pep talk recounts by friends. Here's one that I heard recently -

On the train right now, was offered a share of the home-cooked food being eaten by the elderly woman sitting next to me. Brought back memories of another incident. A few weeks ago, on the same train, travelling on the same sector..it had been one of those days being repeated again and again over the past two months. And as I sat staring out of the window unble to hide the pain and tears, two elderly men sitting across from me offered me tea. And insisted that I drink it. About an hour later, as they got ready to get down at their station, one of them very gently and for a fleeting moment patted my head, wispered 'take care' and disappeared.

The lady sitting next to me, brought back that incident. Sometimes, the kindness of strangers, just keeps you hanging on.

I like Flowers

Mist


Temptation


Symmetry


Maze


And if you like these, keep an eye out for more such colours and travel photography, on my online picture portfolio, to be launched soon.

The drizzle

Today the leaves on the tree are in a mood to frolic - lazily.
Most do a languid Mexican wave starting from the back and moving to the front of the tree.
Some are fluttering around gently, doing their own thing.
The ones right on top are the exhuberant ones, waving madly to the airplane passing high in the sky.
More and more branches seem bare, but these are still being outnumbered by those full of leaves, green and yellow.
The leaves look young and happy.
The early morning drizzle seems to have done them good.
This weekend.

Being.

It is Sunday morning. Summer is almost here but the morning breeze is still pleasant. The balcony doors are open and the curtains are drawn. I see the curtains billow slightly and move with the breeze. Slowly.

There are layers of sounds around. As you struggle to keep your mind busy. You focus on sounds.

There is a big neem tree outside the balcony. With branches laden with green leaves. Together defying the approaching summer.

I can hear the chirp of birds. Sparrows remind me of my childhood. Of the years of growing up. Happier times.

The curtains move slightly with the breeze. Transparent curtains have a way of allowing your mind to travel. You can look out into the world. The trees. The sky. You can see all this. But the world can’t see you. You are safe. And behind the slowly moving curtains, time moves slowly.

I focus on the birds again. So many sounds from the tree. But you have to listen carefully. When you reach for them, the sounds have a way of seeking you out and meeting you.

A bell rings in a distant flat. Loud flaps of the wings of a bird flying off from the tree. There are distant traffic noises. The world is getting busy. And the sound of a broom sweeping off leaves and dust on the road below. The sound of water. And another bird. Kabadiwallah doing his rounds of the colony. The door of the flat opposite just opened. It creaks and is not shut yet. So I wonder what they are doing. Maybe the partly open door is their curtain. Are they trying to hold on too. Are they thinking. Or does life go on as normal inside. They are busy with the act of living and have forgotten the door. They no longer need to focus on it. It is not that important.

Bits of the breeze escape from between the curtains and reach me for a split second. Then go back and move the curtains a bit more.

..wondering

...that it is impossible to know all aspects of another human being. Or even to know all about just that one aspect. Both seem impossible. But then how well do we know ourselves. We might not really be as strong as we think we are. Or as weak. In both cases we didn't really know ourselves as well as we thought.

Tweet

'...There's a legend about an Indian chef. Apparently he would bake live birds into pies, so that they flew out the moment guests began their meal...'


From the article 'Magicians' in The Hindu/ Metroplus of 31 Jan 09.