DAY 114

Usually, I delete those images in my camera, which I think are not up to my expectations. This usually happens immediately.That way I save myself a lot of time and energy while processing the photographs.

Also I think I delete them immediately because, sub consciously, I feel I do not want to be reminded of the mistakes that I committed or the goof-ups that happened due to my carelessness. Though I usually correct myself in the next frame I am not too keen to be reminded about those botched up frames.

However, this one particular image was an exception.

It was a beautiful scene that unfolded before me. An autorickshaw framed by the bark of an old tree and the morning sunlight was brilliant. But in my hurry and enthusiasm to capture the speeding auto I made a huge mistake and overexposed the image.

The minute I pressed the shutter I knew I had missed the shot and was ready to delete it from the camera. However, at that precise moment I was called to do something else by a friend.

And so the botched up image remained in my camera till I began processing.

When this image came up, something in me stopped me from pressing the delete key. There was something beautiful (at least to me) about this image. There was an abstract-art quality to it. Of course the purists will die rather than even look at this photograph. But to my eyes it looked beautiful -like an abstract painting. With the auto being nothing but a blob of color and the bark of the tree -not so perfect....

Yeah, it is okay to make mistakes. It is also okay to be reminded of our mistakes or come face-to-face with them every now and then. You never know it might just turn out to be a huge surprise that you might enjoy immensely.

And also, imperfections are beautiful, sometimes much more than a perfect picture.

DAY 113

I love my dog.

I love her warm, wet tongue on my face in the mornings - my wake-up call.

I love cuddling her. I love the way she smells of human soap, perfumed shampoo and doggy smell all combined together forming something so lovable that I sometimes wish I could hold the fragrance in my hands.

There are times when I have told my Ginju `Oh how nice it would be if only you could talk.' and She would wag her tail, shake her head, give some doggy barks as if in agreement.

There is a beautiful connection between humans and animals. It is very easy to understand and accept this connection if the animals belong to lovable breeds like say dogs, cats and other common pets.

Your heart also melts when you see big lions and tigers go putty in the hands of humans.

But there is always a `ugh-yucky' element when it comes to reptiles. I don't know why? But it is there.

You see someone holding a snake or a lizard and you shudder a bit and you think, "Gosh, how could they do it?"

That's what happened to me when a colleague made a connection with this beautiful lizard. And believe me I love and respect all animals. Even I couldn't bring myself to hold the lizard in my palm.

It also made me think: there is nothing different between showering love upon a dog or a lizard. The feeling is the same, just the recipients of that feeling are different.

It also holds true in all other situations in life. I guess that's what they mean, Walk a mile in his shoes and then you will know.

You will know he is the same as you - in more ways than one.

DAY 112

A young lad was caught after he hacked a middle-aged man to death while the latter was out with his nine year old son.

The man was the lad's father's sworn enemy. An enmity that was much older than the lad and even his father. The lad's father was murdered by the man many years ago and the young lad had sworn to avenge his father's killing.

So he hacked him to death, right in front the man's nine-year old son.

As the young lad was taken away by the police, the little boy looked at him and in his mind he made himself a promise: "I will avenge my father's death. Surely."

And so the cycle continued along with more hatred, misery and sorrow.

I am going through a situation in life right now, where I am caught between two parties. Not that they want to murder each other psychically. But what they are doing to each other is akin to that. One man's ego is hurt because the other man did what he did to hurt him. Now, even if the other man is willing to find a solution and definitely there is a solution the problem the former is not willing to relent. All he wants his to avenge his Ego's murder.

Come to think of it, we as humans are always avenging the killing of our ego putting us bang in the middle of an endless cycle of hatred, anger, frustration and hurt.

All it would take is to stop and say: Enough. I am putting my weapon down. And I will not get sucked into this cycle. Now that's what I call heroic.

For some strange reason I thought of this thought when I saw this image. If you notice you will find that nature lives peacefully with different elements of its world. Water drops from the skies in the form of rain, goes through this marvelous cycle and evaporates up into the sky to await its turn to become rain drops.

Just imagine what would happen if any one element in this cycle felt belittled, its ego hurt and refused to do its part. Ouch!

DAY 111

I say: You create your own realities.

You say: No, I don't. I am too small for that.

I say: You are as big as you want to be.

You say: But then I am as big as you created me to be.

I say: I created you to be all that you want to be.

You say: I want to be this and this and this....

I say: And you can be all of that and more.

Yet you doubt yourself. Instead you make a little `something' and put your belief on that little `something' and believe that the little `something' can change your destiny and create your reality.

And I say: so be it, whatever makes you happy.

And I think: If only they would believe in themselves instead of that little `something' they would realize the power of creation within them.

Sigh! So be it, whatever makes them happy.

DAY 110

There are some images which stick to the walls of your brain for ever.

It might not be connected to your life in any which way, manner or form.

It might not teach you a thing or two about life.

It might not make you think out of the box.

It might not rekindle memories -good, bad and ugly.

It might not provoke you to action.

It might not evoke your passion.

Most of the time it is as mundane as it gets; found in obscure places; and characterized by miss-if-you-blink trait.

Yet, these images stick to the walls of your brain even after life has eroded your memory.

Simply because, at the time of contact, they brought a smile to your face. Unconsciously they let your smile stretch from ear to ear with their humor, with their earnestness, with their innocence.

Nothing does it better than funny boards, graffiti and new-age poetry on the back of auto rickshaws.

I still remember the name board of a barber shop in a small village, where people hardly spoke any language other than their own and which was definitely not English.
This is what it said: God Made Man and Prakasam Made Man Gentleman.

Yep -that was the name of his shop. It was not a tag line but it was the name of his shop. I cross-checked the information.

And I remember almost screeching to a halt when this name board caught my eye - and I remember laughing for a long time till I felt tears in the corner of my eyes.

And I know for sure that even when I am 80 I will remember this one.

The same goes for this image. It was just a plain wall and I could not find a `Puncher' shop either up in the sky or on either side of wall or for that matter anywhere nearby.

It was an image that almost cried out to me -` Smile Please! '

DAY 109

Some days your enthusiasm is tired.

Some days your dreams become nothing more than an illusion.

Some days your will power becomes willowy.

Some days your belief is clouded with doubts.

Some days the promises you made to yourself ties you down and you want to break free.

Some days even the best of intentions fail you.

Some day your lively spirit goes quiet.

Some days your smile feels lazy to stretch.

Some days your legs refuses to take another step.

Some days your creativity takes a vacation.

Some day your inner self seems like a stranger.

And on those days you feel like giving up on life and all that you believed in.

Why?

Because life crowds you. Because you are bored with the monotony of life. Because you have lost your patience. Because you just want to curl up and either sleep forever or die happily and move bag and baggage to the Garden of Eden.

I wonder what will happen if nature began to feel the same way as humans did. That would be disastrous.

I guess that's the reason it does not get bogged down by the monotony of every day and it simply shows up, like this flower, every morning, as if it was the beginning -a new day, a new invention, a new creation.

day 108

I was a school going child. And I remember we were a cricket crazy family. I remember sneaking in transistors to school to listen to the cricket commentary. The girls were divided over Ravi Shastri and Sandeep Patil and Kapil Dev. I kinda belonged to all the camps. Hey, I just loved my cricketers to death.

During test matches, I would return home as fast as I could so that I could catch the commentary on radio. I still remember clearly, it was an England-India test match. I was a huge fan of Ian Botham. My parents knew about my craze. They were equally crazy about cricket and Botham. I know what a strange family!

I came home and discovered to my joy that my father was back home early. Very early indeed. Something was up. As soon as I entered the house, he came out smiling ear-to-ear, followed by my mother who had a very mischievous look on her face. So I asked them what happened. Mom took my hand in hers, asked me to close my eyes, and led me to the living room. And there in the corner was a small black and white television and India was batting and England was fielding. Ah, I almost died and went to heaven. It was one of the most happiest days in my life.

All my growing up years, it was my dream to go to chepauk stadium in Chennai and watch a match, to meet our cricketers, especially Ravi Shastri and Kapil Dev. I remember once a group of shashtri fans decided to write to him. It was the cheesiest of fan mails one could ever imagine. We wrote individual letters to him. And the only person who got a reply from him was a girl named Carol. And we decided that Ravi Shastri wrote to her because she had such a hip sounding name, while ours were very traditional. Oh those were such innocent days.

Life came fast and furious at us. We went our separate ways. During the course of my career I got to meet the cricketers and yesterday I finally got to see the chepauk stadium in Madras, up close and personal. I stayed at the MCC club. Had lunch at the Club, overlooking the stadium and watching players getting ready for their net practice. And all I could think of was, `This stadium is so small...I always thought it was a big stadium. When I watched it on television as a little child, with the crowds roaring in the stands, the stadium looked huge, the players looked larger than life.'

Now that I was up-close and personal -nothing seemed larger than life.

I guess, nothing ever is larger than life -until we make it out to be.

DAY 107

With each passing day I find the following to be true -
Every time you praise something, every time you appreciate something, every
time you feel good about something, you are telling the Universe, "More of
this, please. More of this, please." - Abraham

Initially I thought it was all a big hogwash. But then one should always give oneself a chance to learn something new or experience something new or see something new, just by letting ourselves push our boundaries a wee bit; by letting ourselves try something that we have never tried or do not have much faith in to begin with.

It is easy to practice appreciation when everything is pretty and peachy in your life. But the real test of allowing yourself to push the envelope comes when things are not hunky-dory.

It is when you feel like killing someone for what they have done to you or doing to you, when things don't fall in place, when your dreams are shattered by somebody else's ambition or treachery, when you are made to suffer for no fault of yours -when things happen in your life and you are justified in feeling all those feelings, that's when you practice appreciation, for that is the instrument that's going to turn your boat of misery.

It is difficult to practice, but I am learning. Everyday it gets a little easier. And everyday, I see that the light at the end of the tunnel is getting bigger and brighter. I realise the more the I practice it the clearer the light is. The `narrow' light at the top is getting `broader' and brighter. And now THAT is a good thing.

DAY 106

I don't know why, but I am fascinated by clothespin. You would be surprised as to the number of pics of clothespin that I have in my stock.

I'm sure Freud would've found this "bizarre" (as my mom puts it) fascination for these plastic pins intriguing.

I take shots of these innocuous objects at the slightest opportunity that presents itself to me.

I also seek them out with my camera when I am `thinking' or `looking for a solution to a problem' or `when the mind is crowded and not conducive for any creative pursuits' etc...

And I invariably shoot them at noon, when the light is harsh, when the photography manuals says you shouldn't shoot pics. I do that because that is when the sky is the bluest and I like that color.

I have tried my level best to analyse this quirk of mine. But there is just not one single justification for my act.

The only thing that is constant in these unexplicable habits of mine is that - strangely these images make me feel that all is well and will continue to be so- and that no problem lasts forever and that tomorrow is another day and that it will still begin on the premise of all is well and will continue to be so for as long as you want it.

Is it the simplicity of these images that makes me feel that life is actually pretty simple and its only we that complicate it. And if that is the case then we can also un-complicate it, right? Maybe that's what these images tell me time and again....

DAY 105

When I saw this image I was suddenly reminded of something that I hadn't thought of in more than three decades. I didn't even know that I had a memory of it. But this simple coir triggered something in my brain, which brought back memories of a single encounter which I had thought insignificant at that time. But I guess it was not so and it must have left an indelible impact on me without my knowing, because the more I think of that encounter now, the more I can recognize how it has shaped my thoughts regarding certain aspects of my life.

I was a little girl, must've been in studying in the 1st or 2nd standard in school. I was spending my summer holidays in Kerala at my grandmom's place. Every year we would go on a kerala-visit for 10 days. The first four days would be spent visiting cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmom's sisters, brothers, more cousins, aunts, uncles .... you get the picture, right.

And these people lived in far off places. By the fourth day I would be tired of these trips and all I would want to do is spend time with my grandma and my immediate cousins and the cows, goats and chickens in the backyard and roam around the rice fields.

It was the final day of visiting. It was almost sundown and we were to visit my grandmother's cousin. I hadn't seen her before. And she lived on top of a hill. So there I was, a little girl, tired, huffing and puffing climbing the hill, with my knees and elbows scraped and I absolutely didn't want to meet this old lady. What would I have in common with her.

But my parents insisted that I should meet her and that she was a very special lady. Above all she was 105 years old. And I thought, she wouldn't even able to hear me, see me or even sit next to me, I mean to a little girl 105 years was a really really long time. And I wasn't one bit interested in meeting this old lady who in all probability was laid up in bed.

As I entered the huge open courtyard I saw some women working, drying something or the other -i don't remember what exactly it was. The old lady was rich and had a lot of help around the house. In the far end of the courtyard was a tall, strong, woman chopping firewood.

I could still feel the air that swished down into my open and surprised mouth when my dad introduced the lady chopping the firewood as `my grandma' (I generally called everybody who were 80 plus grandma and technically she too was a grandma of sorts since she was my grandma's cousin). She was the "special lady" that my parents wanted to meet.

100plus and chopping firewood. Phew!

She came running to me, gave me a huge warm hug and went about feeding me with all the keralite delicacies.

Throughout the entire time that we spent there I remember asking her just one question: Why are you chopping firewood? Why can't one of your maid-servants do it?

Even now, I remember her throaty laughter and she said: "Because I can."

And I all in my childish innocence said, " But you are 105 years old. You are very old. How can you chop firewood?"

She laughed some more and hugged me tight and she looked at me for a long time and said, "Because I can."

I did not understand the meaning of those words then. But I remember thinking, it was some kind of a secret, a mantra for her longevity. Maybe she repeats it a 100 times everyday in front of the Gods and that's why she is so strong.

Today, I understand meaning of the words, "Because I can." And I realize that those words have indeed shaped my life, albeit in an unconscious manner.

And why did this pic remind me of that event? Because next to the wood-chopping-grandma were a couple of women twirling the coconut fibre in long and strong coir ropes....

:)

DAY 104

My mother says I am a bad judge of character.

Earlier I used to defend myself saying, `Mom, I like to give people the benefit of doubt."

But these days I just say, "If you think good of someone or expect good of someone, chances are they will turn out good." And also it spares you the trouble of trying to analyze people and respond to them accordingly. Basically, I am a lazy human being and all the aforementioned is too much work for me.

I adopted the think-good-of-someone-and-they-will-turn-out-to-be-good approach to human relationships when I began working with professional actors. The trouble with these guys is that you never know when they are acting and when they are not. In all probability they are still acting even after you called `Cut'. Most of the time you are left wondering about their compliments, their good words, their friendly nature and attitude towards you when the camera is switched off. You are left wondering, is this guy genuinely nice to me or does he have an ulterior motive.

I know it is not fair to them. They are human beings who just happened to be actors. But some of them are so good, that you are left wondering -is he acting now or is he being real? (This image is that of one of the actors in one of my films and it was taken during his coffee-break. But when I look at this pic I am wondering -is he still in his actor's garb? Is this the real him or is it the actor?)

I decided, the best thing would be to expect the best of them, good of them and 9 out of 10 times that's what you will get. That way you don't have to break your head trying to double guess a person and your response to him/her.

My mother still maintains that I am a bad judge of character. "You still get hurt sometimes," she says.

That's the spice mom, I say. Otherwise my life will be good, but bland. This way life can be good and spicy.

DAY 103

I did not do any selective coloring to this image. This is the way this picture presented itself to me. Amidst all that grey the one bright spot was the yellow of the little girl's dress.

What is so funny is that, if you are going to concentrate on the yellow for a second too long the picture seems to say something very different from when you concentrate on all that grey in the pic for a tad too long.

If it is the yellow that you are looking at then the pic speaks of something happy and sunny in that little girl's life or in fact in the lives of those in the pic. But if it is the grey that catches your eye then within a few seconds the pic appears to be gloomy and tells a tale of sadness and hardship in that little girl's life.

Isn't that funny? The picture changes depending on what you are looking at or what you are giving your attention to.

Come to think of it, the same principle applies to every aspect of our life. It is empowering to know that I have the power to change the picture.

DAY 102

This image evokes a feeling in me that has no name. It is a feeling that makes me think of the before and after of my time here. A feeling that is usually attached to fond memories of a different world to which one belongs to without an ounce of doubt.

It is a good feeling. Something that reminds me of a `good' promise that I made to myself eons ago but, now I am unable to remember what it was, other than that I did make a promise to do something. Is this life all about figuring out that promise and fulfilling it? I don't know.

It is a good feeling. A feeling that is usually attached to the thought, `ah well, when all this is over I will return and that place would be home' and you sigh! A beautiful sigh!

And then it is a good feeling in the sense that it reminds me: I made a choice to be here and I will also make the choice to return and so it is everyone. So, nothing and nobody is lost forever -the separations are always temporary. And THAT is a good feeling :)

Children know it. For their umbilical chord is still attached to from whence they come forth, hence the `godliness' and `innocence', which are usually attributed to them, are found in them in great abundance. Could be because they remember the `before' and `after' of this world easily than adults. And before the memory erased as they get sucked into the whirlpool of the world.

Must be it is that sense of joy or knowing in the eyes of this kid that attracts me to this image.

A simpler explanation would be - I am losing my marbles :)

I am fine with either :)

DAY 101

Bangalore is beautiful at this time of the year. The trees are heavy with colorful flowers. And as I drive through these flower laden trees I think, maybe this is how it would be if you are allowed to drive in the Garden of Eden. Sometimes there are huge trees covered with nothing but yellow flowers, pink flowers and violet blooms. It is breathtakingly beautiful.

I do tend to drive slowly just enjoy these beautiful, colorful trees,much to the chagrin of the motorists behind me.

Two days back I noticed a lone tree, surrounded by exotic looking trees filled with different hued flowers. This lone tree stood there, stripped off all its leaves -I mean it was as bald as a bald eagle. There was not a leaf in sight, just branches and more branches. And it stood majestically like a piece of modern art amidst traditional art.

That's when I began noticing these bald and bare trees as I call them. They are different from the rest. Yet equally if not more beautiful. They stood out with their uniqueness. Strong, mesmerizing, tantalizing, beckoning, and all mysterious - just like a work of art.

All these years I was so caught up admiring the obvious (nothing wrong with that), following the herd and missed out on the beauty of these leafless trees, simply because they didn't belong in the pattern.....how very human :)

DAY 100

I spend a considerable amount of time indulging in my passion for street photography. Part of the charm of street photography is capturing absolute strangers in frames that is universally familiar in its pathos.

I have discovered time and again that people from a certain class (read lower economic class, not so literate etc etc) have less inhibitions and are more open to letting their pictures taken. They are more giving and forgiving.

However, if you walk down a street in the upscale part of the city and start clicking pictures, soon you will have a lot of people objecting to it. And they are not so giving and forgiving.

I understand that they have valid reasons and doubts. Why is this woman taking my picture? How can she do it? Where is she going to use it? Will she digitally remove my clothes? (yes people do think those things you know) Will my face be attached to the voluptuous Shakeela's body and circulated amongst the pornistas of the world? so on and so forth....And they are completely justified in their doubts and in their asking and in their protesting....

Having said that I am wondering about an entirely strain of thought here. I can walk up to absolute strangers and ask them to pose for me. Chances are if they are from a certain background they would say yes and if they are from upmarket areas they would either say no or will bombard me with umpteen questions before reluctantly posing for me.

Once there was a cobbler on the road. I was in the car when in passing his face, so full of character, caught my attention. I reversed my car, stopped in front of him and asked him whether I could take a picture. And he happily agreed and even spruced himself and his shop for the picture. Just like the corn seller in this picture. I did not ask him, but he knew I was taking his picture. I was obviously not so invisible with my 70-300mm lens. We acknowledged each other with a nod and he went about doing his work while I continued doing mine.

I have also had instances of people stopping me from taking their picture and I have always respected it.

I wonder what makes a certain section of people uninhibited and more open and more trusting of the world than the rest. Sometimes I wish I was like them, but sadly I am more often than not at this end of the spectrum.

DAY 99

Day 99 comes to you 24 hrs late. Reason - I have had 100 little men, clad in iron-soled boots, tap dancing in my head all through the night.

When you have a migraine and all you can do is stay still in a dark room, just to stay alive -you smother the angel on the right shoulder and wake up the little man with horns on the left shoulder.

You become a bad mouthed sailor-just that you cannot open your mouth for your head hurts even when you breathe.

So there you lay like a breathing corpse counting the pin pricks in your head and hoping against hope that the next one wouldn't prick you.

Last night as I lay paralyzed in my bed I wondered if I were to describe what is going on in my head visually how would I do it? Obviously a scan wouldn't help for it wouldn't describe the zillion pin pricks accompanied by 100 feet tap dancing in my head. Then I remembered this image.

This morning once all the 100 men packed up and left only to return soon I hunted this image down. I had shot this sometime back (again DAY 99 is different in the sense that for the first time I am posting something that I hadn't taken in the last 24 hours).

The image is the closest visual representation of my ravaged head.

And to my surprise it looked beautiful to my eyes, nothing compared to what I was feeling last night.

Is this what they say there is pain in beauty? But I guess the beauty bit comes after the pain and not during. And if we can hold on, like the hero and the heroine held on to the iron pole in the climax scene for the famous movie Twister, then maybe you can see the beauty of it all...for it is always beautiful inside the eye of the storm or a twister OR once it is all over. There is something heartening in starting all over....just like this morning :)

DAY 98

I love the contrasts of light and shade in this pic. And I wonder if it hadn't been for these contrasts would this pic have been as mesmerizing to me as it is now.

Contrasts are good. They create life experiences.

You need to go through the contrast of not having something in order to have a desire of wanting something.

Right now as I experience the contrast of life, in me births new desires and I know that's what keeps me going. I perish the day I cease to have a single desire in me.

DAY 97 -2 AM FRIEND

Every one should have a 2 am friend.

It is as important as drinking 3 liters of water every day, which is necessary for the proper functioning of your system. So is a 2 am friend.

The 2 am friend is not your husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend or even your regular friend. This friend is special. You only have one of them in your life and they usually walk with you till the end.

The 2 am friend is the one who sees your soul and if you tell him/her that he/she will laugh you out of the room calling you "insane". But this is the friend you think of when you are in danger, when you are confused, when you are in love, when you are out of love, when you are frustrated, when you are scared, when you want to die or when you want to live.

The 2 am friend is the one you might call one night and say, "I think we are meant to be together, lets get married" and then you hear him/her laugh you out of the room for the umpteenth time; you call him/her all the bad words in all the languages you know before you bang the phone down. And as you bang the phone down you will hear at the other end a voice saying, "Sleep tight" and a smile creeps upon your face even though you are livid with the voice at the other end. And then you wake up in the morning and call the friend and say, "This guy has asked me out on a date, what should I wear?" and he/she says, "How about that dress....."

The gender of the 2 am friend is not important. In fact after a certain age it doesn't matter whether he is a he or a she; or she is a he or a she or neither or all. All that matters is the friend who will wake up for you at 2 am and listen to your raving and ranting because he/she cares.

It really does not matter whether you are physically intimate with your 2 am friend. After a certain age even that does not matter. Either you are not interested or you have journeyed enough in life to compartmentalize different aspects of your life.But what is important is that you can discuss anything and everything under the sun, from your ovaries to your in-growths, without flinching.

What matters is the `Connect'. Every time I use that word my 2 a.m friend laughs in my face - literally. That is important. Your 2 am friend should be able to call your bluff, tell you like it is, lift you up when you are down and bring you down when you are soaring high and in the wrong direction. And he does it with utmost respect and love.

If there is one thing that I am sure of my 2 am friend, as sure as the sun rising every day, it is the fact that he loves me and cares a great deal about me. There is a difference between "he is in love with me" and "he loves me dearly" - the former comes with no guarantees...the latter usually comes with a lifetime warranty.

It takes many years to find that one 2 am friend. Some don't find one at all. But when you find one you better keep him/her for life. They are precious.

That's my friend (or a part of him) in the picture. It best describes him and our friendship. Strong and tender.

DAY 96 -FROZEN FRAMES

This photograph reminds me of all those beautiful black and white photographs of eons. When the great masters wielded their camera and captured not just images but stories. Stories of generations. Stories of cultures, countries and climate. Stories that contained in its pixels pathos of human lives. Stories that were frozen in frames so that the future generation will know what it was like "Once upon a time"....

The stark beauty of this image captivated me. And as I was waiting for the signal to turn green (these days its seems like the traffic junction is where I get to take most of my pictures)I was imagining how people would see this exact same spot 50 years or 100 years down the line.

These iron rods would one day be a part of the zipping metro rail high up in the air. At that time people wouldn't even remember these iron rods jutting out into the beautiful sky.

Is it necessary for people to remember the jutting rods while they rode the luxurious metro rail? Is it necessary for people to turn back and look at the past? Not if you are doing it to wallow in some self-pity coated Wat filled to the brim with victim-complex.

But definitely yes, if you are going to feel proud of the journey made.

I wonder whether this picture will survive for a 100 years and whether someone sitting by the window riding the metro rail car, will look at photograph and say "This was how it was once upon a time" and smile....

PS: This pic is of the metro rail work that's underway in Bangalore.

day 95

I decided to take an autorickshaw to go into town since I was feeling lazy to drive.

The rick had stopped at a gas station to fill gas and I sat there fiddling with my camera.

It was around 3 pm and I guess it was coffee time for the employees at the gas station. Because in rolled a mobile-tea-stall-on-wheels. It's nothing but a bicycle that's used to carry bags of milk packets and other paraphernalia that you usually need to make coffee or tea. And you find many such mobile-tea-stalls in Bangalore.

Suddenly I saw this really shabby dog appearing out of no where. And he just sat by the side of the mobile tea stall, like an obedient dog waiting for his turn to be served tea.

His white coat was more grey-black than white. His ear was clipped in one corner. I had never seen a dirtier dog than this mongrel, but oh there was something about him. There was a certain energy about him, a certain goodness about him that you wanted to reach out and pat him on the head and say, "Good boy". He seemed like the smartest dog around the block.

At that precise moment I didn't know what was so compelling about the image. I quickly raised my camera and clicked a picture. There was no time to think since my auto rickshaw was now ready to go tuk-tuk.


When I came back home as I was staring at this image I realised that it was really a very abstract shot. You couldn't see the dog's face. You couldn't see anybody's face for that matter. Even the mobile tea stall appears like blocks of color. But somehow there was a lot of feeling to the pic. A certain humanness about it. I could literally feel the joy and the eagerness of the mutt not just hoping but absolutely believing that the man on the cycle will ultimately give him some milk and also a biscuit. There was a not-so-quite confidence about this dog.

It reminded me of certain spirited people who even when they are down will spring up by the sheer force of their confidence in their belief that everything will turn out well in the end.

DAY 94

When you ask someone, where were you or what were you doing when you heard that Kennedy was killed or Indira Gandhi was shot dead or when Rajiv Gandhi was bombed or when the Tsunami wiped out villages and towns or when the planes rammed into the twin towers - chances are that, even after many many years they will remember what they were doing at that exact moment.

I call these the side-bar visuals. They are different from the bigger picture but they are so intrinsically connected to the big picture. They tether us to the bigger picture. They become the anchor points which makes us stop and ask ourselves some life changing questions or find answers to some unanswered questions in relation to the bigger picture. So the side-bars will always be etched in your mind in association with that life-changing moment.

This image is one such anchor point in my life.

I was working on this photograph when the bigger event occurred. It was not a world-changing event. But it was definitely a moment that gave me an answer to a question that I have been asking myself (and others of me too) for most part of my life.

I usually have some nice instrumental music playing in the background or listen to some of my favourite speakers while working on a picture.

And in the background I heard my favourite speaker saying:

THERE IS NO ONE THING THAT YOU WILL EVER FIND THAT WILL HOLD YOU IN A PLACE OF COMPLETE FULFILLMENT OF EVER MORE.

Bang - I got my answer. I am not a freak for having varied interests in my life and wanting to different things in life. I am not a rolling stone. A rudderless ship for wanting not to dock in any one particular port permanently. .. I am just someone who wants to experience life to its fullest.

DAY 93

This is an image of my mother that will always be etched in my mind. A visual that hasn't changed from the time I began to recognize things around me as a toddler.

This is my mom in the afternoons, after she's completed her household chores. Very rarely does she nap in the afternoons, even if she did indulge in her 40 winks it wouldn't be before she had spent time reading. It was her `ME' time.

An extremely disciplined person my mother is a voracious reader. She would read anything and everything that she got her hands on. It could be novels to magazines to essays. Ironically she always had to depend on her husband or daughter to get her all the reading material. So she never had a choice there, yet she made the best use of what she got.

She was always a great believer in "Reading should be part of your system -like breathing." She never went to college but her love for reading and knowing and studying about things never abandoned her.

I think I got interested in reading early on because of her. As a child, I would snuggle up to her in the afternoons while she spent time reading, with one hand thrown protectively around me. And I would automatically smile and snuggle up to her even closer. I used to feel loved all the way down to the tip of my toes and I would wriggle them in joy.

Till I learnt how to read I would look at the pictures. Those were some of the most memorable and precious moments of my childhood.

No words spoken. That one or two hours in the afternoon strengthened the bond between mother and child.

Then I grew up. I had a life of my own. My mother continued with hers. And held on to her reading habits.

Today I had the opportunity to be at home in the afternoon and I encountered the familiar scene, which brought back a rush of wonderful childhood memories.

After clicking this picture, I put my camera aside and snuggled up to my mom. Without a word, she automatically put her arm around me, as used to decades and decades ago. It was the most natural thing for her to do. She never forgot and I never forgot the sensation of it. After all these years I could feel the smile on my face and felt my toes wriggle. Though I would love to do it for the rest of my life I know it is like asking for the Moon, so I am glad I snuggled up to her today.

And it was all a result of a mother and daughter spending time all those years ago.
Sometimes, bonding needs no words.

DAY 92

This is a pic of my pet Ginju taken during playtime. Yes, we have our playtime. She does not play ball. She likes hide-and-seek instead. Basic ground rules -she hides and I seek. This was taken when she was hiding under a cot.

Now she is a BIG dog (she agrees with the big part but not the dog part, thanks to my mom, she thinks I am the dog).

Anyways, she is a huge dog, a ferocious dog. And she is not a friendly-with-strangers-and-anyone-outside-the-family dog. She is a well-trained girl and has not yet bitten anyone. But we all know that she will not spare anyone who walks into my mom's or my personal space without invitation and that includes even other family members.

And during some part of the day I have to play hide-and-seek with her. She would invariably squeeze her big frame in the small space under the cot and wait for me to find her. And when I do you should see the glee on her face (the pic was taken during the you-found-me-i-am-gleeful moment), almost laughing and then I get a thorough licking-of-the-face-treatment.

This is one of the most precious moments of my everyday life. No matter how difficult my day had been, at this precise moment I forget everything. And there is an unexplicable joy that fills my heart.

Like books, I think pets choose us and not the other way around. Every day I don't forget to thank Ginju for picking us. Well, I don't say it aloud. But when she comes for her hug in the morning, I think the thought and appreciate her presence in our lives. And I think at that moment she senses it and there is an over pouring of unadulterated love, which only animals can give us -especially out pet and especially dogs.

DAY 91

Sometimes there are no words to describe certain feelings. Not that the image does not come with words. It does. But they are in a language unique to you for only you can understand it and this understanding is in the form of a feeling.

Many years later what you will remember is the image for it has made an impact and the accompanying feelings for it has gotten under your skin.

This image is one such - All I could think of while drinking in it was -Art in the Sky.

DAY 90 -cusp of change

This is an endearing image of one friend of mine wishing the other goodbye and good luck.

At least once or twice in our lifetime we find ourselves at the cusp of major change in our lives.

As we grow live more life, go through numerous experiences in life and gather so called native wisdom we realise that some of these changes are a result of our asking. Our dreams, wishes, prayers and desires. It is not by chance that we usually stand at the cusp of this change but by choice. Some might not realise it. But invariably, it is always by choice. At some point we had wanted that particular change in our life.

More often than not we forget that we had in fact created this reality that we are in now. As a result we stand there confused, afraid and indecisive. Am I making the right choice by forging ahead? Maybe it is just a mirage! Why me? Why do I have to encounter this now? We torture ourselves with questions and in our confusion we refuse to see the answer -a simple one -we are at this point of change simply because we had asked for it.

This afternoon I had lunch with three of my friends. One of them was as I said at the cusp of a major change in her life. But what was joyful was that she created that reality for herself.

Yes it can be scary as hell, especially when you have to leave all that you are familiar with behind and step into the world of the unknown -for that is what change is all about.

So it was for my friend - new job, new place, new people, new life....but what was heartening to see was that she's embraced it all.

And that would mean just one thing -a dazzling, joyous, empowering and successful time ahead.

And she deserves every bit of it.

I will always remember this day when my friend left to forge a new path -one that she created for herself.

DAY 89

I saw this man taking a nap in the hot sun on a mound of sand.

He was oblivious to the world around him.

It seemed apparent to me that he was one of the laborers from around that area.

He must have finished his duty otherwise he wouldn't be allowed to nap. In this part of the world you don't get paid for nothing.

I sat in my car watching him for a long time. I wasn't thinking any thoughts for a long time. And suddenly an irrelevant thought popped in my head. Would I sleep like that? Will I make myself vulnerable to the world, and just think of nothing other than getting my 40 winks and sleep in an open place like that?

Irrelevant indeed. Because I don't think I will ever be able to do that.

Over the years my observation has been that the lower middle class people have less inhibitions than the middle class. They don't care about what the world thinks of how they look, behave or their relationships and so many other things that the middle class concerns itself about -things that make the middle-class lives complicated and confused. The latter might ask a thousand times, what will the world think of me, before embarking on anything. IMAGE is of primary concern to the middle class. But I find that's not the case with the lower middle class.

Is it because they are so busy trying to survive that they do not pay attention to trivial issues such as what the world thinks about them?

Hmmm...am pondering