Foto – Memories : old images I

November 27, 2012 § Leave a comment

Revisiting some old memories. I think of the time a few years ago… when I was so, so passionately into photographing as much as I can. Trying to get better. Makes me want to do it again. This week is going to be about images from the past! They can also be found on my other foto-blog.


…The light and the lighthouse – ii

May 27, 2011 § Leave a comment

“She went off to Prague after completing school.With the euphoric feeling that now at least she could betray her home.

…Betrayal. What is betrayal? Betrayal is breaking of ranks. Betrayal means breaking ranks and going off into the unknown. Sabina knew of nothing more magnificent than going off into the unknown.”

Sabina was her favourite character in the book. She had that thing about her… of absoluteness. And still not really so. There was nothing absolute about her. She did what she did. Just because she felt so. What was it about her that was so intriguing. Maybe it was just that author Kundera.

But where does it stop? What if it becomes a life long quest of simply breaking of ranks or attempts at breaking of ranks? What if unconsciously that s all that directs every action. So will every action be to break the barrier? So either ways whether you follow the code or break the code, it influences you. shouldn’t every action be devoid of a code at all? To follow it or discard it becomes irrelevant if there is a complete absence of a pre-conceived idea. Then would that be true freedom? To refuse and be indifferent, not even slightly acknowledge its existence and go about life on your terms…? Would that be easy or difficult. Easy it would be because there’ll be nothing to take into account. But more difficult because its difficult being original. And sticking to it. To un-learn everything they’ve taught you.

So does this quest to cross and destroy barriers ever end? Does it end or do you choose to end it. It should end. She’d want barriers to be irrelevant… It was exhausting just living in the world. So many people around, so many things to do.. and breathe at the same time. And the encounters with people and places. Every time something went away she felt like her heart was ripped out. And it was ripped out again.

She thought she should give it a rest. Give in to the numbness maybe.

And be strong. And shrewd.

Or just strong.

No more ripping that there’s no more heart left. Absolutely no more heart left.

 She hated and loved the book. It made her go into a cave inside her mind. Unreachable to the outside world.

Life was a funny accident. She wondered where she would be if it were not for the accident of being born to the world. Surely everything is a matter of chance? The universe seems to function in amazingly absurd ways. She wondered if she was not born in flesh and blood would she be just a part of the nothingness in the air.

The light and the lighthouse

May 11, 2011 § 8 Comments

This is something I’d randomly written last september. No point or conclusion. But there doesn’t need to be any.

Here’s to encounters… 


A sudden beam of light hit him. He paused mid way and exhaled. After a moment he put the cigarette back between his lips chewing the end. It was more of an unconscious habit these days. Sometimes he didn’t even care to breathe in. The light broke  into his thought. Was it white? Or perhaps yellow? He’d never liked white. He liked the yellow beam when its bright enough to hit your senses. He could trace the light to the light house further down. It was a moonless night. The days were balmy and hot but the nights were cooler. He breathed in and felt it go down his throat in swirls. Leaning on the railing he stared at the lighthouse.

    How long had it been standing there? Wait… and how long was he standing there? The beam hit everything in its path with a vengeance. Illuminating a couple of houses and dark shadows of trees for a moment. The other side it destroyed nothing. Nothing there except the ocean. He watched it go round again. Had a rhythm about it. Perhaps he could use the light and the rhythm.

  The sound of light footsteps broke his reverie. He dragged his eyes away from the light and looked into the darkness. The light went around again and hit the road to show a woman walking towards him. He liked her short hair. Made her face more… sharp and angular.

– Got a light?

She held it between her fingers and stared at him trying to figure out something. A moment later she seemed to have sorted the puzzle and finally took  a drag.

-I liked your play.

-What about it.

-That he lights the house.

They looked at each silently and turned to face the lighthouse.

It was a play that brought him there. He never liked to travel with the troupe but this time he felt he had to get out of the city. And ended up staying out of the country for months. The day’s play was not one of his best. His friend had dug it up from his earliest works. -I think it’s lousy and I don’t think it’ll work.. he had told him. But it had. And they toured… charming little towns. And cities. It was a change. But he needed the chaos of home to think straight.

-Anyway. I don’t want to think straight.

It went round again.

– What if that ship over there doesn’t see the light? It’s harsh weather don’t you think.


And that’s where my friend called me and it’s just sitting there on a page. I don’t like the fact that he smokes, or that he’s black and not grey. Isn’t grey more versatile? But then… he’s flawed. And that’s just right. Well anyway. That’s the page I suddenly found!

Mysterious creatures

July 29, 2010 § 5 Comments

She never said much really. Except when it was clearly necessary. Loved her books. Read them all the time. Talked to my cat fondly. Would suddenly ask something out of the blue. Paid her daily respects to Him, but I suspect she never really believed he existed. An atheist in the closet I was always sure. Followed the rituals religiously. It was just something she had to do… for the sake of doing… something. Always felt glad when anyone made any progress. Never missed a thing that went around the room.  Never refused a cup of coffee. And we used to sit in silence at the table enjoying our own coffee mugs and thoughts when the air was cold. And ice cream in hot summers. She wasn’t supposed to have ice creams chocolates or coffee. But that never stopped her. Chocolate ice cream was the best of both worlds. Sometimes I wished I could time travel and go back in her time and look at her when she was a little girl and offer her my ice cream… just to watch her. Lent me her golden pearl ring sometimes… just for the day. To her what was wrong was wrong. Never changed. What was right was right. Never changed. Always preferred being right and reasonable about everything. But then missed out on the fun of being wrong sometimes. Never questioned me ever. Or anyone for that matter. Appreciated the fact that I appreciate her favourite saree. Never hugged me ever.  But smiled in amusement when I planted a peck on her cheek. Only person who ever told me I was born to build.. and who never knew how much that meant to me then. You never messed with her. Or took her for granted. You were always glad with whatever little part of her she gave you. And man, she was discreet. Strong willed.. born in the wrong time I always felt. If she were born now… she would have shined like a star. But she was that still… in a way. Just… herself. Unlike anyone I ever knew. No one ever got her… I can’t claim I do either. But I see her reasons. Her logic. Because those are my reasons too in some ways. But then I guess.. I just get it from her. 

 There are some people in your life you can’t imagine with a past.. with another life before you. You see them from the day you were born or the day you first met them and that’s what they are to you. Seems like their existence began with yours. Like parents, family, some uncles, aunts. Or others in some cases. And they do have a past. Sometimes you know it sometimes you don’t. But those innumerable moments and events together make them what they are… and you can never know everything they did in their lives. Only so much as they choose to reveal. But that is fair enough… because we are all mysterious creatures. Every one of us. She was. You are. I am.

Witness to a comedy of errors.

June 3, 2010 § Leave a comment

“You know, she has this thing about her.. of absolute sureness. She looks so damn peaceful I wish she could pass it on to me too… and she does. It gives me peace just talking to her. Telling her about my day. I ve ended up telling her things I never told anyone. She’s like my best friend. It’s not just her calm. But its more than that, I love everything about her. Sometimes I have to catch myself from sneaking a glance at her face. She’s such a warm person. She likes to be inconspicuous so I let her be. Sometimes though I don’t understand what she says… it’s all so jumbled up. I wish I could be part of her life. And share everything. Show her off to the world. If only I knew how she felt.”

“You know, he’s so funny he makes me laugh all the time. He makes me blush. Bt then sometimes he doesn’t get what m saying. Guess that’s ok. He makes me feel like there’s nothing more to worry about. It’s just so much fun him being around. But I don’t know if he likes me the same way. Sometimes I catch him looking at me but then I realize he looks the same way at everyone else. Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. He just seems so busy being himself I feel invisible to him. He enters the room and I feel so warm inside. But m a bit scared of what if I ruin everything good we have. Yeah well. Only if he could somehow know.”

And thus continues the comedy of errors…!

An old poem.

February 10, 2010 § Leave a comment

Dimmesdale whose sin was greater and thus whose pain was
far greater…
The Scar Of Dimmesdale

Are you wearing your scar
That dark shame on your bosom

While they..
They smile their conceited smiles
And smear (your benevolence)
with dark hues
Red and darker still.

Pain that I betrayed
Pain (your being)
From which you shed tears
of comfort
For me to sail on
To exult in an escape

Hester are you wearing my scarlet letter
That which adorns your loving bosom
For it is my own (my own sin)
Emblazoned on your soul (and mine).

It’s very old. Sounds so darn sinister right! The book is okay I think. Its a very usual story… I read it a long time back and didn’t really think much about it. Suddenly found the book one day and the story came back to me…. moved me in some way. Thus the poem.

Another day

January 31, 2010 § Leave a comment

Should drive carefully. It ll be very silly to get in a road accident. And very impractical. Pot holed roads…  -The last thing I need right now.- Have to keep eyes on the road. Reached just in time. Before time. As always. Class starts at 2. ‘Seems m early.’ Its four flights up the dingy stairs. The staircase is lighted till the first two floors. Then the lamps are all broken. You have to guess where the next step is. But she’s used to it. The staircase has been like that since the first day. Shes always joked it’s a dungeon. It does resemble a dark tunnel. Though you re going up the stairs you feel like you are descending into another world. It’s always better to climb up slow. Lot of time still. Maybe the teacher’s not there yet either. As she climbs she sees many doors open. There’s an ad on the board. Agatha Christie novels at a discounted rate. -Must take a look sometime. But there’s no time to read. Maybe in the vacation I ll take some time out. I can put it in my collection till then.-

This computer doesn’t have any lan.- How am I going to connect it. I shouldn’t do all the work. Just for today leave me alone.- Don’t make me talk-. I can’t think straight today.- She sat down in her usual chair. She needed to talk to someone. Need to call. Should call a friend.

tring… your call is on wait.                                                                                             tring…’hello’                                                                                                                                                    

‘hey’ ..  

‘helllo. how come you called me.’

‘nothing. just felt like listening to your voice.if it sounds the same’  …                   I need to hear a familiar voice. yours might reach me…

 “huh? to listen to my voice? waa…t?’

‘can’t I just call.I just got bored. So I thought I should call.’


‘everything okay? what happened?’                                                                               

‘yes.everythings fine. just this and that.’      … I don’t think I ll last the day. Say something. Anything.

 ‘Hows the class. enjoying? ‘

‘Its okay. There’s nothing to enjoy. Just the usual..’  … your voice does sound familiar. she’s glad she called.

‘and hows everything going? Lets meet up soon.’

‘Everythings fine. Yes lets plan. I have to go… the lady came.cya soon.bye’  … I can’t talk anymore. If she did she won’t be able to sit there for the rest of the day.

She sat there contemplating what to do next. The room is full of people, wires, boards, projectors. -Have to get out. But I can’t. Whats there outside anyway. I ll have to go home. Its better here.-  Need to get out. Need to get out. Need to get out. ‘So whats the difference between GUI and CUI?’  She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. Too much of an effort. ‘I can’t recall… You did tell us yesterday… But I don’t remember.’  Please don’t ask me anything today. M tired.

Travelling is a very interesting time. While you get from point A to B a zillion thoughts cross your mind. Have to be careful while driving. People drive like crazy. Dodge the speedbreakers. Dodge people. Dodge the old man on his blue scooter.

Everything quiet. The nights have always been kinder. She always likes to play the piano when no ones around. And when she’s feeling low. Whats wrong today? Somethings not right. Everythings wrong. But there’s nothing really wrong.- Maybe I should just play those new chords I found.- Its soothing. You can play a grand piano on this keyboard. This song is good. Sad. No. Not sad. Melancholic. But still something nice. The lady looks on from the painting. She wonders what made her draw her like that. They say she looks a little in pain. But very resolute. She’s not giving in. -Hmm. Perhaps. But I don’t like her right now. She reminds me of the time I painted her.-  She should just look away. The melody sweeps the room. The only sound in the world right now. -Should learn to read sheet music.- Its so wonderful. One note after other and they make up a wonderful melody that touches your heart.- I don’t intend to cry. – But its a wonderful song nevertheless. 

She heard her parents coming up. -I ll play anyway. Dad always loves it when I play.- He loves the sound of the piano. Though she’s not very good at it. dont want them to see me like this.- Should get my shoulders up. But can’t. Don’t bother. Play on.

‘You’re doing wonderful. I love it when you play at night. You think you re alone but I can hear you from my room. Love the sound of the piano.’

-M glad you like it dad.- Glad it makes you feel good. She hears them working  at their desk. Discussing tomorrow’s menu.- I don’t wanna show them my face. M okay. But they won’t think I am. C, D, C, D, E maj… G C D…-  Glad they went to sleep. C G C G… Dad came up and gave her a hug. And patted her head. ‘You always give me a hug. I should payback sometime too shouldnt I princess. Sleep tight.’  Oh dad. I love you too. The world is okay again.  Tomorrows another day. Will start it brand new. It’s not time to give up yet.



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