One Rainy Evening.

One Rainy Evening. That is the approach to my bulding. It was past sunset I think. It was a dull rainy evening. 8 second exposure on tripod with me and Mhatre to yap. Mhatre holding the umbrella over me and the camera. Fun. Then that time in Matheran when I mooned near the rock patch were Vishu got stuck. Then the other time on Irshalgad with Percy and Mhatre when we cooked amidst large quantities of red crawly insects. Then that time on Visapur with Percy and Milind running around jumping and the wild buffalos who gave us a scare and how the 4 of us slept in a 2 man tent with all the baggage and equipment and how the dogs pissed all around the tent.

I have had some really good times.

long back

Long back (so long back, that I dont even remember - but must be nearer 12 years ago) I took this one from the top of A bldg. The trees were younger then, shorter. One could see over and beyond them. That is the road to Kalina. :) This was a long exposure, arbitrarily, on the Zenith-E. Considering, it came out pretty well. This one is a scan of a 4x6 matt print.

I will be away till I get a new connection in the new place.

The Sitarist

My Salon Entry at the SP Forum.

After 4 J's we were sure on the edge. :) Raju and Adityo especially, they got involved in a very intense Guitar vs. Sitar jugalbandi. I dont even remember how I took these photos. It was my friends manual Nikon FM10 - a strange machine which did'nt like strangers either. The photos are at weird angles suggesting very weird positions on my part.

The Dream

Not long ago, in a charming dream,
I saw myself — a king with crown’s treasure;
I was in love with you, it seemed,
And heart was beating with a pleasure.
I sang my passion’s song by your enchanting knees.
Why, dreams, you didn’t prolong my happiness forever?
But gods deprived me not of whole their favor:
I only lost the kingdom of my dreams.
–Alexander Pushkin

[noticed on Sthitaprajna Jena's blog]

go

finally I set you free
finally I see
nothing in your eyes
for me

-x-

treasure your freedom
follow your dream
find your anchor
difficult as it may seem

you cannot run forever
you cannot pretend not to see
you cannot for long pretend
to be who you dont want to be

foggy

Where I come from seems murky. No, not murky, only shrouded. Shrouded in the distorted cosiness of the past. But sometimes that is beautiful.

life@29

in the evening the city moans
a cesspool of emotions gone dry
fleeting connections all around
too fickle to give time to try

in the simmering crowd
on the bustling street
the allusion of a thousand souls
there is no one to meet

fighting the daily battles
burnt and scarred every time
I fall into a wakeful sleep
as a solitary watch I have to keep

in the privacy of my hell
I make war with my daemons
like the moth with his wings burning
no glory, no escape to the summons

but soon the rain brings
new moths and new flowers
the ghosts and daemons
washed away by the showers

the cycle continues
distilling me every time
as I make my way
through the ancient doorway

the temple falls silent
the priest has fled
who is there, now that we are free
but you and me