Saturday, April 29, 2006

Is it the camera or is it me?

I am not sure. But now-a-days I see the things in the perspective of the camera lens. Or may be I see more of colors around me. Their depth or their all encompassing arms makes us feel so small. Why is that I dont observe when I am in india??? Does views in india is any less?? definatly not. A quick view through my Foto album dicards this thought. Is that we dont have time back home? Are we too busy to observe the colors. Atleast I dont see myself trying to take snaps on the way back home, like I do here. May be its the reason why I love travelling so passionately. May be I have a escapsim tendency. Or use the reason of travel to capture the colors in god's paint palatte. May be thats why.........

Gods creation?

Gods creation or kid playing with pastels??? Awesome display of colors. Sodium vapour lamp light on pink flowered tree in dusk light.

Spot light.

Try to guess the location of the light!!!

Gostly image

Orange security light gives a eerie glow to my freind Ravi. Does'nt he look like a hot charcoal???

Friday, April 28, 2006

Free country

Free country America,
The statement "Free country US" got me into thinking. How free is a free country? Pretty relative statement, I think. Feeling of claustrophobia is very much prevalent in this country. You are so forced into the strict laws here, that the citizens here follow almost automatic. How often do you think you can take a 'U' turn in your country without worrying about the double yellow line crossing? Even though the streets are empty without a soul around. For that matter soulless people around. You cannot walk if there is no side walk. I wanted to take a walk around my house , but not possible to walk after couple of miles because of lack of sidewalk or place to cross the street. Free country, certainly not.

We wanted to take some snaps of an excellent country side near the beach road. But whole of the 20 mile stretch had sign boards as "No Stopping" Darn, even thought there was enough grass land on each side of the road for 10 trucks to park side by side. Free country!!!
It seems there are 4 million cameras in US. 4 million!!! that means one camera for every 100 people and going by an Ad for a clothing company which has a famous byline "You are on camera 10 times a day, are you dressed up for it". Very thought provoking statement, that is.In pre-Victorian England, a philosopher named Jeremy Bentham masterminded what he considered the perfect prison. In his circular Panopticon, each isolated cell faced into a central tower manned by guards hidden behind Venetian blinds. One guard could watch any prisoner at any time without being seen -- creating a sense of "invisible omniscience." The law makers in US has taken that statement verbatim.Here you have cameras at all convincible locations, at the stop signs, at the numerous signals, In city you go to any mall, any streel with out the looming signboard arrogantly proclaiming "Place under CCTV surveillance". I immediately look up for the big brother camera, not with success every time. But for the free country citizens it has become a part of their life. They dont bother about it.
If you feel like sitting, there is a particular place. If you feel like stopping your car, there is a stipulated place. You have to maintain a minimum speed. Maximum speed, No chai ka dhukkan, no sutta place. Yes if you are living in a place like NY or SFO slightly better. But most of the places have anarchic rules.
Mera bharat mahan

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Sillouthes at dusk

This snap was taken in Central park, New York, at dusk. Couldn’t help missing out the trees sillouthed against the stark blue background of evening sky. The lights you see are of Christopher Columbus circle. Slow speed setting

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Reflections on the window pane

Kinda liked this pic, if not for that flash. Silouthes of trees against the greyish sky. Sun shining in one of the spot on the building.

Rain clouds

Snap taken near my office, tired to capture the impending rain clouds on the background and the sunlight falling on the trees like a spot light. Taken on the way back to from my office. Felt like running around in the woods shouting "AYeeeeeeeee0000000000000000" like tarzan ;-)
Oh Jane, where are you????

Why travel

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things youdidn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail awayfrom the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore.Dream. Discover.- Mark Twain
My two cents
I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The euphoria of movement...leaves me breathless. I think that travel comesfrom some deep urge to see the world, like the urge that brings up asmells of masala dosa in me when I am ravishingly hungry (Which is quite often). Exploring connects the harmony which once existed between manand the universe. No matter where you travel, there you are!! Thejourney is my home.Time to seek unknown places, seeing days of scenes and curioushappenings in far-off lands! You have thought of doing this, almost promised yourself that when you got old enough, and rich enough, andcould "spare the time," you too would go around the world. Most of us get old enough; some of us get rich enough; but the time! the time! - tospare the time, to cut loose from home, dreary desks, quit clients,telecoms, Ashoka bar, coffee day coffee, many a promise must be brokento Live life, Explore all colors of rainbow...experience the sounds ofsilence. Hear your heartbeat sync with the elements. Blend withdifferent cultures.I think that wherever your journey takes you, there are new godswaiting......... could be the same reason why the sages had totravel(walk) for years before they reach the destination, for travelbroadens the mind. The folks less traveled read only a page of the book.Every exit is an entry somewhere else. Traveling is a brutality. Itforces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiarcomfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing isyours except the essential things - air, sleep, dreams, the sea, thesky-----to lose sight of shore, will bring out the real you.

Friday, April 07, 2006

missing benne dosae'

50 days in US of A. Getting reminded of the benne dosa and the smell of capsicum bajjis very often.
I remember one particular period of my life, where I was totally addicted to the oil rich snacks. I used to work in a small scale industry near ramaiah college, bangalore. I had an equally addicted colleague. In the evening we generally go for our yummy snacks. Our long conversations would go on like this.
Prabul: "Hi"
Raghu: "Ok"
And we are off to Janata hotel@ malleshwaram. Once you enter, its like entering a time machine. You will find old furnitures and older waiters. This place is perpetually full of customers. Most often than not you may have to wait for a seat, which most probably you may have to share with others.
You can find a pattern of people visiting here. Many are old people who has a royal old world charm look among them, drooping cheeks with eyes brimmed up with knowledge of uncle-ish philosophy and knowledge. They would be in age BCA (before cellphones and ATMs). Even the younger lot does not seem to very different. You can find them generally with their shirt not tucked in , slim, with a black bag about size of a book with zipper under their armpit, furiously looking for a place to sit.
The equally old waiters with an air of superiority which would make taj waiters cringe. Waiters would be in banians and faded orangish dhoties folded much above their knees and the trademark red towel with slight brownish ting. They would ask "Helle" with a dead pan expression. We order our regular Masala dosa. God forbid if you ask "Yennu iddhe?" then the deadpan expression does not become dead any more, he would start into a string of menu. Which I doubt he would have understood himself. Even then, you would have what is safe at any tiffen room like this. But then, the waiter would have understood that you haven't come here before. A slight discernable micro change in his expression would mean that he has seen you as a regular.
You get your delicious dosa dripping with molten butter(slurrrp) uncermenonisly dumped on your table with thick chutney and steaming sambar already spilled on your dosa. Very few people achieve nirvana on earth. You eat this, bliss is guaranteed .I wash my dosa down with a coffee. Not machine coffee, but actual, beautiful, fragrant filter coffee, made the way it's meant to be and served in steel tumblers. As I sip it with a loud noise, nobody would even bother your way of drinking, because it's the way the coffee to be drunk.
I get a fleeting glimpse of how the place must have looked like when it opened, with it's clock and paintings and all it's customers. I'm sitting in a piece of history. I am sure this place would have been looking exactly same 50 years before. Most of their interior decoration is the same, that old idols filled with jasmine flowers and a big red flower in middle. Old solid redwood furniture and the aroma of delicious fried bajjies and benne dosa...
I hope they can capture that smell and bottle it.