The Point of No Return

The sudden throb of a passing truck woke him up. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It was a strange dream. His dreams would often dissolve into nothingness upon waking but this was one of those rare ones which still lingered in his eyes. In the dream he had been on the roof of an old building. All he could see in front of him was a line of white sheets hung out to dry on a rope. He penetrated the first line only to find another line of similar white sheets hung to dry. Layer after layer he went in to find more of the same. Soon he was lost in a sea of soft translucent white. He did not know right from left or front from back. For a moment he had the feeling that he was in a womb of white light. It was comfortable in a strange way but underneath that feeling of comfort there was a sense of panic that was waiting to be released. It was at that moment that he had awakened.

Shruti stirred beside him and mumbled something in her sleep. He turned to look at her. She was lying on her stomach. Her right hand was splayed across his chest and gripped his trunk, as if holding onto him while buffeted by a fierce wind. Her hair tried to walk across his face when moved by the thin breeze from the fan. She looked peaceful and loved in her sleep as she always did. She never remembered her dreams either. Even now she could not help hugging him in her sleep. It was one of his little secrets as he always woke up before her.

He disengaged himself gently from her half embrace, taking care not to wake her up, got up and sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up his watch from the sideboard by his bed. The hands read 6:30. His day normally started at 8. He was too keyed up to go back to sleep. Dawn was just beginning to break. The room was bathed in dim light from the window by the side of the bed. He got off the bed and looked around the room. It was sparsely furnished. A frugal existence on a scholarship did not offer much opportunity to lead a luxurious lifestyle. Almost all the furniture had been bought second hand. Therefore, the room had this mismatched look to it that came from putting together furniture of differing styles and make. But it looked comfortable and cozy. Two qualities the room owed to the care and diligence of Shruti. She had worked wonders with the limited resources they had.

The Age of Innocence

The Age of Innocence

August 2007, Paris.

I wanted to start my Paris photo series with a conventional photo of the Eiffel Tower. Instead, I decided to post this shot of two children in the Montmartre area as the taking of this shot, even if it lasted but a few seconds, was so special. These two were so happy when I started to take their photo that they both broke into beautiful smiles (which I hope I’ve captured). Even after I finished taking this shot and started to walk away they continued to smile and wave so happily that I couldn’t help but smile and wave back. Their innocence and happiness was highly contagious 🙂

Fujifilm Neopan 400

The Stench of Death

What use is love for those whose hands stink of death?
What meaning does humanity hold for
those laughing through tears?

Where were the answers printed in gold?
Where were the guardians of hope on a day
when blood splattered faces spoke of a
madness that came home to roost?

We will shed two tears, perhaps burn a candle or three.
But who will wash the crimson smears off our common spaces?
Who will awaken our sleeping senses?

Stainless steel plates and plain blue chairs try
to shield a private sadness from prying public eyes.
Are you watching? Go ahead, step over crumpled
bodies, skewered limbs and satisfy your blood lust.

An eye for an eye you want in the vain hope that
you can sleep better then and dream of a world
where only the righteous punish the sinners.

These rivers of dark blood smear our foreheads
and drip from hands clenched in fury.
But who will spare a thought for those whose
stories stopped with a phone call?



Winter 2003, Hyderabad.

Another one from my old alma mater, University of Hyderabad. This was part of an anti-Iraq invasion art show put up by various students of the Sarojini Naidu School of Fine Arts at the University’s tea shop and student hangout area. It is a wonder that I captured something as it was night and the only available light sources were a few light bulbs.

Konica VX-100N

Two Years!

Two Years!

It totally slipped my mind that this photoblog had completed two years of existence a couple of weeks back! As they say better late than never 🙂

A big and heartfelt thank you to all the visitors here. In addition, my gratitude to every one among you who has voted for, nominated or publicized this photoblog on the net and elsewhere. Your support means a lot to me. The past year has been quite fruitful photographically. I hope the next year will be the same and perhaps even more so do keep visiting these parts. Have a wonderful weekend!

Oh and if you are interested you can view a couple of thematic slideshows set to music I made below:

1. We Are All Strangers

2. Postcards From The Edge