matheran chronicles

When I arrived at the Gavankar residence at Matheran, I was meeting Harsh's old man for the first time. He immediately put me at ease with his warmth. Dinner was ready and the old table with it's warped top planks was laid with large inverted white porcelain plates with inverted glasses on them.

The plain rice with the phodni che waran and ultra thin special matheran potato wafers to accompany tasted like the best meal I had had in a long while. I was tired from the long lonely journey from Mumbai and then the even lonelier long walk from the bike parking to the Gavankar residence. That was a good meal.

The next day Senior Gavankar made mutton, dry and with gravy. We had mutton pav for lunch and mutton rice for dinner. After a heavy breakfast of omlette pav me and Harsh went exploring. The late lunch was a feast. I have never eaten so much mutton at one time before. After lunch me and Harsh spent hours trampling through the odd sopts of Matheran. We were dead tired by the time we got back home for dinner.

Above photo : Harsh in post dinner contemplation.

nut

Photo by Harshwardhan Gavankar

At Matheran ...

me

me, originally uploaded by _quasi.

near madness

That Night

I reached at 2100hrs, after braving the darkened bylanes of Matheran, at the Sarasvati Vidya Mandir school. The old gate, the heavily wooded grounds, the climbing pathway, they all made me feel like I was entering some mysterious old castle rather than a school. In the diminutive light of my torch I climbed up as fast as my quirky knee would allow. As I reached the top, the sight of light put some heart in me. There was a single naked light bulb lighting the school varandha.

I called up. No answer. There was no one there. Like a moth, I squatted underneath that light. Outside was pitch darkness and weird noises. The funny part was there was no cell network under the light, but as soon as I walked into the darkened far corner and into the weird noisy night, the cell showed a bar. I sms'd a few who I assumed to be near. One never really knows. I waited for half an hour twiddling my thumbs and getting more and more restive ... then I unpacked the camera and the tripod and clicked a few. The one above is one of the school buildings. I could barely see it to focus.

Light

Irshal at midnight

... the longer you look, more details you see. If you are looking.

spur

I stand alone,
surrounded by such beauty,
free as a bird,
the whole world my
playground ...

back

Finally back online.
New place. New life. New connection.
Old me.

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