Every wfh (work from home) needs a cat.
Okay, I think I have just enough time to show you two photos taken from the minaret in Jama Masjid ( on the Saturday of mint (with Uncle Chipps masala) and mix-veg chapathis, at Parathe-waali gali).
I had gotten used to a certain personal space in Bangalore. People taking “no” for an answer, the autowallahs addressing you with a “sir” and vice-versa. That doesn’t apply to Delhi. Drifting in and out of sleep at 9 pm, I hear hurried knocking on the door. He sees a red-nose reindeer (a tad too early) in boxers, rubbing groggy eyes. I see a vicious smile.
There was some problem with the the projector they were setting up on the terrace, urgent help was solicited. Sleep departs in seconds and I’m shooting him with questions about the problem. And then I remember his vicious smile. I’m coerced into dressing up and on the way I grab my camera.This is what you get when you mix frenzied neighbors (with deep pockets hell bent on making Delhi worse) with my sleepy head with a running nose.
These guys spent a nonsensical 3.5 lakh rupees on crackers within a 7 hour window. And here I was pushing the purchase of a 70-200 mm lens for next year. So yeah, happy diwali.
This is one of the frames I got at Tipu’s fort, near KR Market at Bangalore. The paint is flaky at almost all places in the insides, but it weirdly, adds to its mystery. Made me think what must have happened here, what all have the walls seen?. This, I must attribute to finding a skeleton (still chained to the wall) in Humayun’s tomb (or some other asshole, I don’t remember clearly!) in Delhi on a school trip.
Can you imagine the glee of finding a skeleton in a clean swept archaeological-place ? That too on a humid Thursday, years after the realization that being Spiderman or Batman or Superman or He-Man and juggling it with school life would be extremely difficult. Not to mention the knuckle raps that the muscular vice-principal would belt out if you get caught in the corridors, loitering.
Can you imagine ? Can you ?
If you can’t imagine, then you should go back and do something about your school days. I’m getting endorphin rush just thinking about them.
Frankly, I could feel their glares; like I was selling their secrets to the sun.
This is from a photo-walk from April 1st of 2012. The joke till we reached the venue and met the group was that we were soon going to be April-fool scapegoats. The Lee folks were serious. Nothing of that sort happened.
About the photo:
She is a Hindu, he is a Muslim, they were childhood friends. Born and grew old in the same street. By the time I landed on them for a quick click, they were gheroaed by some 10-15 guys with better camera gear than me. She was chewing paan and blushing with all the attention. That’s when he said,”Hum bachpan ke dost hai!” and gave her a friendly squeeze-hug.
For a moment there, I felt what it would have had been for families to troop down for a feast at Ramzan, have the neighborhood over for a Christmas dinner, dance around the bonfire for Lori and lock religion away in dusty tomes behind forgotten cupboards. And just live up our Constitution.
Till death does them apart, cheers!
This had been on my desktop for long:
Working night shifts does things to the normal functioning of the five senses. For example:- you work the whole frigging night away and then you wander aimlessly with a camera in the morning, sleepless, click an ant and put it here for the world to see. What was the poor ant’s fault, really?!
As I stood here, soaking this scene in on cold Sunday morning, I felt nothing could go wrong. I was so very wrong.
Regrets are so much better left unspoken.
The Goan odyssey turned out to be short as anticipated, and unexpectedly gratifying.
Pondering over it with a last shot of Black Label in hand, I kept a close watch on the moon. I wasn’t expecting it to run off somewhere, but why should an inanimate something have the best seat at the show? It’s for all to see. Stop being selfish.
The scotch was working. Smoothing down frayed nerve endings, answering my vague questions.
It was a clear sky with no hint of clouds. Sitting on the porch, you could hear the wild dogs yelp at the base of the nearby hill. The stillness of it all was shattered by the orgasmic thump of Enfield’s every now and then. Midnight’s lucky children!
Swollen beads of sweat trickled down my back. I tried to wear a younger skin, push time back and put myself on the pillion of one of those beasts that a cousin had. It was a Yamaha RD , if I remember correctly, and it sounded like a whining motor when pushed to the limits. 350cc, but different genes. And the looks on the faces of those sitting in those two KSRTC buses, which we bisected on the potholed Thrissur highway that summer evening- priceless. Now, that cousin of mine has “grown up” to society’s standards. He has a wife, two lovely kids and a house that reeks of gulf money.
Life, take away all your glory, lend me your serenity.
“Dad, get yourself an Enfield. We’ll go riding into the sunset, fish the stars out of the cloudy nights and sleep in the rain.”
He laughs it off. Says he’s too old for this.
I can’t let it pass. It’s too hot and I need to be hit and run over by a breeze.
Miniature people.Minute intertwined lives.And the unyielding cold rain.
Brought together by hot buttered popcorn and ginger tea.Held together by frail umbrellas.And, the rain became a cool breeze.
At the VGP golden beach, at Chennai.
He asked me, “Meri foto leke kya karoge?”(What are you gonna do with my foto?)
I said,”Still cant see your teeth,sir!”
Wished that the silhouette was sharper.
Got to be more realistic the next time I do PP.
Roomies thought this was a wallpaper of some upcoming Tamil flick! ROFL
Sudden showers gave me enough reasons to curl up this morning. Wanted to pull the quilt up to the head and listen to music on my phone(which offlate has been giving me bluetooth problems!) or still better watch Sholay on it. Had to do with listening to Children of Bodom- Someone put somethingin my drink, instead.
Tried to give the bus scene an 1970s look, to make up for the couldnt-have instead.
Hot chocolatte without sugar for the sore throat, at noon,in this hot summer!
Without sugar, doesn’t mean I’m a diabetic. It merely hints that both me and my accomplice forgot about the sugar sachets.
Concern , now comes in litlle bottles of hand sanitizers.Use before you wash-your hands off!
A tweet worth thinking about,”90 people get Swine flu and everybody is wearing face masks. Millions of people get HIV/AIDS but noone wears a condom?”
Was in a meeting today.No , not an appraisal one. It was the smallest one and the most exciting one, yet. It was about the trek that I and a few others others would be on, this Saturday.
Instructions: “There are 13 hills between point A and B…moonlight trek..carry flashlights,lots of water….the chances of getting lost will be high…”
And, there will be only one amongst us, who would be familiar with this route. Though, a trek of moderate(more on the easier side) difficulty, “the chances of getting lost” has gotten me going. Hope, it proves more satisfying than the brochure.
The search for a good flashlight continues. I do not want to go for one, that conks out when you go a little hard on the touchy buttons.But other alternatives are expensive.So, lets see.
11th April ( Up the Irons)
A sleek Nippo LED torch completed my backpack for the “moderate” trek weekend.
So this is how things went:
Slipped into deep sleep after a scrumptiuos dinner at an anonymous dhaba, that only bus drivers would know about. Opened eyes to a busy Pune the next morning and flagged down a bus going to Infy Pune Phase-I.Thanks to Ashwing, for this.It’s kinda difficult, when you are around someone, who says things loudly and to noone in particular.Things like “Let’s not act like tourists “. But it’s okay, if he is good at flagging down buses.Fresh and charged up with a heavy breakfast , we give Pune Phase-II a visit. Next on the cards was, the Flight 666 -Aiyern Maiden documentary.
Flight 666 was Ironmaiden’s attempt at doing something, that no other band has done before.A world tour of 45 days, which began at Mumbai and concluded at Canada. Bruce Dickinson, lead singer, pilots a Boeing 757 modified to hold equipment and a crew of over 100-odd folks hell bent on drinking and “giving the kids a good show” and singing “you are shit and you know that you are”. If the metal music doesn’t appeal to you, Nikko McBrian’s commentary and the rampaging football-crowd in Rio, will get you jumping out of your seats when they end with “Hallowed be they name”(even if there are alone with 9 other people in the entire theatre)!
So after a small break en-route to Katraj, which involved lip-smacking Davelis and then an autoride through a tunnel, we start ambling in groups towards the small hill ahead. The small hill turned out to be an ant hill, in a garden of boulders.On the top of the first hill, I thought I would never be able to complete the entire trek.But after a few minutes of rest, your body feels energized and the view of the lit up city, in the cold mountain air urges you to go on. Every peak was a visual delight. You could feast your eyes on the city of lights or lie on the bag
and fall asleep watching the stars.Only to be woken up, a few minutes later which felt like hours.
At peak 11, we watch a steady stream of what seems like flash-lights go .Steady? that means an even ground,right?. Could that, then be a road. This breathes life into the lost five(including me). I wanted to be lost, but not without water to enjoy being lost!
Finally, at about 6am, with the help of a few other trekkers, we blend in with the metalled road.A jeep from there, takes us to Singhad Fort, and most delicious poha and chai, ever. No, it was not that our hunger made it taste better.We were not hungry, just thirsty all the while.Imagine walking 5miles with 2 bottles of water,even the thought of it runs my throat dry. We count ourselves lucky for the poha, not many were early enough.A flurry of steps to the Singhad Fort for the nimbu paani and a photo session at the top.And we were on our way back to the city.
It’s always best to go down on your bum, down a 70 degree steep fall, than to walk.
It’s also fun sliding down the hill on ur shoes, though they may look old and tattered, before you ask, “when?”
Maiden kept us going,when we exhausted the water droplets, on the bottle necks!
I just assumed it, when it came to an another Microsoft product (Windows Live Writer) that it would have an interfacing problem for sure. This was the medulla oblongata (gut instinct), speaking. It was correct. WLW cannot download my theme settings.Lets see how this looks on the blog.
Update: Everything looks fine.
A few snaps from my new camera. Photography, definitely isn’t as easy as it looks.
Model : Siby Mathew
Eggs and potatoes are welcome.