"No man at all can be living forever, and we must be satisfied" - Maurya, Riders To The Sea.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
White Desert Story - The Widows
Monday, December 12, 2016
Short Story of a City - Ahmadabad.
Cities were always like people, showing their varying personalities to the traveler. Depending on the city and on the traveler, there might begin a mutual love, or dislike, friendship, or enmity.
Where one city will rise a certain individual to glory, it will destroy another who is not suited to its personality. Only through travel can we know where we belong or not, where we are loved and where we are rejected.
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
A Photographer's Mind - Stillness of a Time
"You’ve mentioned a couple of times that Italo Calvino is one of your most beloved writers. In The Adventure of a Photographer, the main character says that ‘in order to really live, you must photograph as much as you can… you must either live in the most photographable way possible, or else consider photographable every moment of your life. The first course leads to stupidity, the second to madness’. Do you think photography is inherently futile?"
Dayanita Singh - That’s a beautiful quote, but I think it only makes sense if you think of photography as an end in itself. But if you’re not interested in photography as pure documentation, it frees you to do so much more. My work, Time Measures, is titled after the name of one of Sebald’s poems.
I photographed these bundles of documents wrapped in fabric that I found in an archive in India. The viewer never finds out what the documents are or what they look like, and I never did unwrap them either.Does this then mean that the photographs are pointless?
Whenever people ask me how to become a good photographer, I tell them to read, jump into the world of literature. I hand them a copy of Austerlitz by Sebald, and tell them to come back to me when they’re done with it. Nobody ever comes back to me because that’s not the kind of photography they want to do.
They’re interested in instant gratification, going around with their big cameras, snapping photographs quickly without thinking. Can we raise the bar higher?
- An excerpt from an interview of famed Photographer Dayanita Singh with Apollo Magazine.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
हसरते... Desires...
तुम्हारे साथ पूरा एक दिन बस खर्च करने की तमन्ना है !"
I have that strange desire, to keep an entire day hidden from everyone, and keep it to myself ,
and spend it miserly, the way near empty tap does, in painting the moles, on your blue white chest ...
(Sarkhez Roza, Ahmadabad, Gujarat. India).
Short story of a City - Ahmadabad
"याद पिया की आये
यह दुःख सहा ना जाये- हाये राम
बाली उमरिया सूनी रे सजरिया
जोबन बीतो जाये- हाये राम
बैरी कोयलिया कूक सुनावे
मुझ बिरहन का जियरा जलावे
हाँ पी बिन रैन जगाये – हाये राम"
Oh memories of my beloved haunt me!
Alas, I cannot bear this grief!
I am yet young but my bed is forlorn ;
my youth is passing by – Alas!
The cuckoo, my enemy, coos his song.
Bereft of my beloved, my heart burns.
Yes – I am kept awake all night without my beloved!
Alas!
Background!
This is a Thumri but in essence, it is a lament.The song is set to the Hindustani raag Bhinna Shadaj.
Written by the great Maestro Bade Ghulam Ali Khan on the death of his wife who passed in 1932, it has certainly stood the test of time! This is in the Punjabi Thumri style, which is faster paced and sounds generally ‘lighter’ than traditional Thumris.
Translated with a bit of artistic license, he says ‘Oh memories of my beloved haunt me! Alas, I cannot bear this grief!’. He was only 30 when his wife died. ‘I am yet young but my bed is forlorn! Alas, my youth is passing by!’.
Was he crying for himself or his wife? A bit of both, I think. ‘Bereft of my wife, my heart burns’ he says.
I have given a faint try for Transliterating this song and used it over here because the image was composed thinking about this great moment and song.
(Street Walk in Old City of Ahmadabad with Cine Prime Lens DS 50mm, 1.5T. )
Friday, December 2, 2016
White Desert Story - Metamorphosis!
"I didn't know who He was or what He was until I saw him transformed into a Blue Butterfly and coming out from one of those windows.
Was there any proof to the lies ? Well the Blue's of one of those windows lying quite and strange brings a certain amount of truth to an otherwise abandoned tales of Metamorphosis..."
Short Story of a City - Bhadra Fort, Ahmadabad.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Short Story of a City - Bicycle Thieves
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Short Story of a City - Ahmadabad
White Desert Story - The Widows.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
White Desert Story - The Nomads
“If this were so; if the desert were 'home'; if our instincts were forged in the desert; to survive the rigours of the desert - then it is easier to understand why greener pastures pall on us; why possessions exhaust us, and why Pascal's imaginary man found his comfortable lodgings a prison.”
― Bruce Chatwin, The Songlines.
White Desert Story - The Childhood
The Character of a House - Ruins of a City, Old City, Ahmadabad
Monday, November 28, 2016
White Desert Story - In search of Water
White Desert Story - In search of Water...
“Give me the waters of Lethe that numb the heart, if they exist, I will still not have the power to forget you.”
― Ovid, The Poems of Exile: Tristia and the Black Sea Letters
Friday, November 25, 2016
Metaphors of a City - Ahmadabad
Thursday, November 24, 2016
सहरनामा", An Abstract of a City - Short stories of a city called, Ahmadabad.
"कहानीया, बस , तीन लफ्जो की होती है,
लेकिन, क्यों और कैसे ।
बाकी सब बाते है।। "
All stories are a lie.In bits and pieces...
- Night Walk in Ahmadabad with Cine Prime Lens DS 50mm, 1.5T.










