In the lift.
Small metal box.
A grey haired lift man who ask's me everytime which floor I got to go.
Sometimes he comments that it is rather hot.
Rarely gives me a toothy half grin.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
In the lift.
Small metal box.
A grey haired lift man who ask's me everytime which floor I got to go.
Sometimes he comments that it is rather hot.
Rarely gives me a toothy half grin.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
love
from a tree next to 'C' building, Campus.
Can you really believe some people actually write crap like his ?
love
love is freedom
love is to set free
love is the sweet river
love is the salty sea
love is not to ask for
but everything to give
love is death
love is life anew
love is a butterfly
we the flower
love is weakness
love is the power
love is blindness
love is divine sight
love is darkness
love is the inner light
love is harmony
love is strife
love is the bandage
love is the knife
love is the hangman
love is the rope
love is the leap of faith
love is the ray of hope
love is agony
love is ecstasy
love is soft passion
love is you and me
26th nov 2004
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
X
I am sure I am one of life's few chosen ones. I may not always get I want, but I sure get all I need.
And sometimes all you need is a bamboo up your ass.
Jim Morrison sings a beautiful song ..
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I’ll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger’s hand
In a...desperate land
...
It hurts to set you free
But you’ll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The Seller of Peace
He sells peace. Or death. Or whatever. Or he is just trying to keep everyone happy and survive. Or he is just another clog in this huge machine and has no real control as to what he does.
But he does sell peace. Everything has a price, even peace. And the price need not be a tangible commodity. Heh.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Writing.
My neighbouring kid Akhalya E, from Campus
Instead of being the regular escapist and just posting arbitrary photographs, I am going to write in every post from now. Heh. But the photographs still remain arbitrary.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Matheran.
Our mountain refuge.
The philosophical photographer.
The end of another day.
Irshal, as always, stable, robust, solid, proud. Standing.
The beginning of another day.
The cycle continues.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Foula @ Kala Ghoda Arts Festival
My friend Sanket's group Foula was playing at the Kala Ghoda Fest. I smuggled myself out of office, went like the wind to the NGMA, shot these photos and then got back like the wind to the office to continue with my duties. Heh. Life in the Fast Lane (tm).
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
even older.
Life is truly a mysterious journey. The path's I have taken (willingly-unwillingly) and the places where I have landed ... It all looks so romantic - but only in retrospect.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Friday, February 03, 2006
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