AJ and AMBS

Dev D ... the sweetest nightmare ever!

2009-02-09T03:34:00.000-08:00

I saw Anurag Kashyap’s Dev D the second time in a row tonight. And, I liked it even better the second time. There is something about watching a film for the second time, its like the second layer of the film opens up for you. There are very few films that make sense the second time you watch them… the only other film I had seen again in the theatre in the recent past was Rang De Basanti, and really, I got a tad bit bored. With Dev D… like all great films… the subtext opened up for me… that’s when you realise how hard the people have worked on the film, how much attention has been paid to detail. Like the “Trainspotting” matchbox that Abhay uses in one of the shots… the Shah Rukh Khan ‘Devdas’ poster on the wall outside that nameless underground pub… the t-shirt Abhay wears just after Paro’s wedding… with a picture of the Devil on it…. Signifying his spiralling road to debauchery and depravity. There are some film-makers who are very clinical about their attention to detail – like Sanjay Leela Bhansali in Black: the Charlie Chaplin film running in the theatre… the intricate sets and clothes… and then there are people like Anurag K. – with these quirky bits that they add to their films… I know if I see the film a third time, I would find yet more… unravel maybe another layer to the story and the characters.

Like the first time, I did not get the very subtle way in which Dev and Lenny/Chanda interact with each other just after the interval. It establishes their future relationship… some love affairs are not planned… they just happen… notice the way Dev reacts when Chanda tells him casually for the first time that she loves him, he just looks at her surprised, amused, one questioning raise of the hand … there are layers and layers of emotions hiding there… hats off to Abhay to pull it off so well. The swimming pool scene is probably the sweetest romantic scene I have seen in a Hindi movie in a long long time… the strange, barren, almost hospital like scene after the pool scene with the yellow light pouring inside the changing room is also a favourite!

Its interesting to see how Paro becomes almost this coming of age heroine of Indian cinema. A real, full-blooded woman. Not your Aishwarya-Paro, who’s almost other-wordly, virginal and unreal. I wonder how the Ram Sene people feel after watching the Paro of this film! I won’t be surprised if they tear up posters of Dev D in Mangalore and say she is an affront to the idea of Indian women! Wonder how a bunch of fanatics decide what women should do and should’nt do… its sooo crazy that no women have really spoken up against them, there should be rallies in support of women’s lib, why there aren’t is a mystery to me! All the feminists in India probably just keep sleeping in their closets! This happens when our President is a woman! Crazy country we live in… well, that aside for now… Lets talk about the other woman… the child-woman…. Lenny, who turns herself into Chandramukhi, almost with joy… thinking she is taking the name of her favourite movie star – Madhuri Dixit from Devdas. There is something special about her role… about the child thrown into dirt and filth… about her retaining her intellectual virginity. Kalki suits the role like a charm… she is fresh, innocent, childish and believable. When Dev decides to leave her after Chunni has that conversation with him, worried that these two might actually be falling in love… and sends in this other guy to her room, she looks at Dev knowing he is going away for good this time… there is a look of utter despair on her face, the realisation of deceit, as if she has realised for the first time where she really is and what has happened to her life – that’s my favourite scene of her’s… I feel a good actor knows how to add layers to a character… there is that one look demanded of them in that shot, but there is also something extra… you peel off the outer superficial layer… and you find another emotion… a little hidden, yet there nevertheless…

I don’t know if I should talk about the music of the film coz I know I will not do it justice. I can’t get the music out of my head… they are so intricately woven into the script that now its difficult to hear the songs without thinking of the characters they are written for… Paayaliya is my favourite… but that’s not the only one… so is Nayan Tarse…. Yahi Meri Zindagi…. And the rest of the soundtrack! I know I know – I am gushing… but then that is precisely why I am writing this piece...!

I feel this film can’t hide itself for too long, I am not sure if it will be a hit I just know its probably gonna wander around in my head for a long long time… Dev D is the nightmare I’d love to have… its that strange dark alley you cant help yourself wandering into…

2009-01-13T23:58:00.000-08:00

these are in supriya's garden in pune... loved the light falling on the flower in the second pic...thankfully, the photograph does manage to convey what i had seen then...

these days have been a little blank, no thoughts, no pictures, not that many or the kind i would like to put up here. lets hope this strange phase of dormancy goes away...

2008-12-10T01:07:00.000-08:00

I was in my parents house for a month this time. Its pretty rare for me to stay that long. I usually visit for a week or so and mostly team it up with a Delhi visit, which somehow, just did not happen this time.

I was forced to realise that my parents, without exception, bring out the worst in me. I don't know how this happens... I dont really plan it that way, I try (not hard enough for sure!) to keep my mouth shut when things get pretty bad... but nothing really helps!

Its like life is this smooth sail... still, peaceful river... I do the things I like, be the way I want to be...try and be the person I'd like myself to be, atleast most of the times.... and then - suddenly the topography changes - the land is rougher, there are stones, pointed, harsh, there are rapids, waterfalls... wild animals... everything changes! This is time spent at my parents house!

There is a concept of human revolution, about changing from the inside in Buddhism. Only when this change comes about, can real change happen in the world around us. Whatever human revolution I actually accomplish when I am in Bombay, slides back to zero in Gwalior! Why...? Well, that is a mystery. Could it be that my parents really have'nt changed in all this time? Could it be that I actually am like that only - the way I am in Gwalior, and in simpler circumstances just become better. Which life is more real? Which self is more real? I am very confused this time. I almost feel like I have travelled back through time, when I sat on that Bombay-bound train!

Someday, I hope to take my life that I live here, the person that I am here, back to that primal place... the house of my parents! That day, true human revolution would have happened!!

2008-12-05T04:28:00.000-08:00

these temples are at batesar/bateshwar near gwalior. this site was supposed to be a school for teaching temple architecture. there are many small temples there are almost the same. found the concept very interesting, never heard of such a school before!

the dear old radio, the only source of connection to the outside world. one of the guards took the radio and sat on this charpoy which was on the highest dilapidated part of the building which they have made their home. he probably slept with the radio too. was strange to listen to film songs in this remote place!

2008-12-05T04:18:00.000-08:00

this is the amazing temple at mitavali, near gwalior. its called the "chausath yogini temple", according to mythology the 64 yoginis would ask a king 64 riddles, and if he answered them all satisfactorily, then he was pronounced a "chakravarty" by them. the yoginis are devotees of shiva, so the shrine in the middle is that of shiva, and those around it, are 64 small shrines of the yoginis. its said that the architect of the parliament house (lutyens?) visited this temple and got inspired by its design and used it in delhi. it is eerily similar to the basic layout of the parliament house.

2008-11-12T07:55:00.000-08:00

the same swamp outside the house pictures of which i posted earlier too... this is just a different side of the same swamp. its really nothing to look at, i am a little impressed with myself for getting these pics out of there!

2008-11-12T07:51:00.000-08:00

took this really intriguing pic today! love it... somehow... might become one of my favs! its a dry leaf hanging from a thin thread of spider web!

2008-11-10T21:19:00.000-08:00

Bamboo shoots... if one lets imagination take over, it seems like a parrot like bird is perched on the small shoots...

A carpenter has been polishing all of moms old furniture in the house... these old settes looked very intriguing out there in the evening light...

A wild shrub outside the boundary wall. Living in the city makes one more sensitive to these little spots of wild, delicate beauty.

2008-11-10T20:40:00.000-08:00

There are just too many birds around here! The second picture is a fluke pic, its a happy chance... I saw the bird on the wire and then she probably flew off and landed somewhere else, I just blindly kept shooting... saw later that I had this gem in my camera! The bird is an Indian Robin.

2008-11-10T20:12:00.000-08:00

this is a swamp outside my parents house, they stay a little away from the city
so there aren't too many houses around. just yesterday i saw someone measuring a plot and this
morning there were people digging up the land. i only wonder if i will find the swamps when i
come back next year!

Hiya! Very very long time ... not fair when I promised to upload a pic each day! Guess life just takes over your well meaning plans sometimes! I am in Gwalior now and doing - well, almost nothing. Its a strange blank, vaccum at the end of the year... even thoughts dont come as often here as they usually do! The mind can switch off for a few days and nobody would even notice! Maybe thats why I am here - to give the mind a break, stop thinking. But pictures - well, they dont need the mind anymore... they come from somewhere else in my being...

2008-09-29T12:04:00.000-07:00

I love to watch the kids coming out from the school thats right in front of my house ... looks like grandmoms take their jobs really seriously these days! The old lady in the first photograph can barely even stand straight!

2008-09-29T07:48:00.000-07:00

Sorry guys, I am late today... was busy with so many other during the day! I am gonna try and upload in the first half of the day, and ya - weekends are off for me! So don't check those days!

About the pic - I have this very palm like plant at home - I just loved the delicate leaves looked just before they opened up. They almost like they are folded in prayer...

I think by now you guys must have guessed that I am a plants freak! Everywhere I look its leaves and flowers for me. When I had just come to Bombay, I used to look awestruck at the way the indoor flourished here, they looked this lovely tropical green and so healthy. All that moisture thats bad for my respiratory system is obviously wonderful for the plants!

Which one to pick for today!!??

2008-09-26T04:35:00.000-07:00

I have a problem today - there are too many pics to choose from. But I really do want to stick to posting only one picture each day or its gonna get too messy. So... lets see... what I find ... there are feather pics, and leaf pics and shadow and light pics.... I am going for the feather pics coz of the novelty value... maybe I shd have another post with "surplus pics of the day"!! Too much on my mind today, too many details, its like I have been on "macro mode" for the past few days!

2008-09-25T06:35:00.000-07:00

It seems the leaves theme is gonna go on for some time - I am just too fascinated with them right now! So here's one more! Leaves fascinate me so much I could print an

entire book on them! Its getting very interesting actually, looking for just that one picture - I have been thinking about it all day. I picked up this peepal leaf from the road - thinking I would shoot it at home. Did'nt know it would work out so well! I had a nice red background here, but it looks so much nicer in black and white.

One Photo A Day

2008-09-24T05:42:00.000-07:00

I have this new obsession, lets see how far I can take it! I want to post one picture each day from today. For today I have this picture of leaves that I happened to find in my building. I love the different shades of green here.

Paris - je t'aime ?????

2008-07-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

Paris. I really don't know where to start or what to say about it. I have such mixed feelings about Paris. Let me begin with this - I always loved the thought of Paris. You know how it is - you like the way the French make movies - one of my favourite actors is a french (Juliet Binoche) - one of my favourite films is in French (Three Colours). There is something very dreamy about the French film-making style. I have always been fascinated by their attention to detail, how they can make the mundane romantic... little things important.

So you can guess. I had these tremendous expectations from Paris. I remember a friend telling me that Paris gets into your system, you begin to breathe it. Hmm.... ok... I am sure it does get into your system. But I am not so sure how one feels after that. Especially someone who dares (yes dares) to not know French. Our Thalys train arrived in the Gare du Nord and I felt, this feels like a big city, somewhat like Delhi. My train experience was mixed, the waitress on the train had been a little weird, even though we were travelling first class. I don't want to appear petty and get into details, but she was not especially warm and friendly. Being brown skinned in Europe always keeps you on the guard, you're almost looking out for bad experiences.

First day in Paris. Our landlord, a French, was really warm and nice, so that was a good start. Our first meal... pasta, nothing to write home about... my husband and my brother had a crush on the French waitress though! She sure was quite dreamy and pretty! First two-three days you spend figuring out Paris. Amsterdam was a different deal, my brother lives there, he knew everything, it seemed very simple to get around the city. We carry a pram around for my son - Amsterdam is a dream for a couple travelling with a child. Everything, the tram, the roads, the buses are superbly pram friendly. There are designated places on trams for a pram. I was beginning to feel that all of Europe was going to be that simple! Paris - the guys here probably just did'nt bother too much with kids of their own, so forgot to make it child friendly! The tube stations have these steep flights of stairs, so the pram needs to be picked everytime when you go up or down. And the metro stations are very deep, so its not just one flight of stairs that we are talking about! Sometimes there are three - four flights. Very painful. No one cares that you have a pram and a small child, so no one helps. No one gives up a seat for an old person or a pregnant woman. Dunno what all this means, equality of all? I am sure there is a French phrase for it, but really, I dont wana know!

Its very strange - this city of Paris. It is so beautiful. But the people, they are caricatures of themselves. They take the legendary French rudeness too seriously. They really dont like foreigners. They really don't speak languages (as the Italian wife of my landlord told me). The beauty is overpowering. The city is impeccable. The architecture, the symmetry, the boulevards, the cafes. They are all beautiful. The impressionist painters. The museums - they sure know how to take care of their art. The Seine. The roadside shops selling paintings. They are all so beautiful, but try buying one of the pretty paintings, and god forbid, if you haggle for it, you are told curtly - this is Paris, no discounts here! Do they even want to do business? !
I have to admit, somewhere around the third fourth day, you start giving in. You think maybe they were taught in school to be rude to foreigners, so its not really their fault. And there is the rare kindness - here kindness just means being polite! And the food. Well - the food melts you. Thats the global warming melting the glaciers! Well, whatever! But the French food... even if its slightly bland, is awesome. I had a grilled salmon yesterday with cream sauce. There were layers of taste there... layers and layers! If you know the taste of fresh clarified butter - ghee - and the smell of it - well then you are getting to the salmon taste I got! I find that smell nostalgic and homely and sweet. Today I had a tuna steak with ratatouille. Interesting. AJ had marinated clams - thats something to die for! They were really nice. The French, like their caviar and their froi gras are a rare breed and you need to have a taste for them. They are not easy to grasp and even tougher to like. I am not sure yet if I like them, but I like what they have done with their city. They have made one helluva place. Something you love and wonder why - its almost like the love of a pricey mistress. She troubles you and turns your life upside down, but you are hooked for life!!

I have many more things to write about. But its really late... I should sleep...! Two more days here... and lots left to do!

Painted Skies

2008-07-20T16:33:00.000-07:00

The skies here look painted. I have not seen prettier skies anywhere else. My brother's home is on the top floor of a building (9th) maybe thats how I get to see this really vast expanse outside. The room he has opens out into a terrace... it has pretty high walls, so all you see when you step out is the sky. Even in the night the sky is breathtakingly beautiful. Its raining off and on these days, so the clouds just roll in at times... there are grey clouds against white. Its like white takes on more shades in this land (read sky).

Last night the moon was shining from behind these pretty clouds... I tried to take a picture, its nothing great, but I am sure it gives an idea! I have been to the hills in India, and the sky there is beautiful. But there you somehow expect it to be like that. I know that sounds unfair. But try and understand. This is a busy, commercial city. I havent smelled fuel smoke even once here. Maybe they make cars differently here. In the middle of all this hustle and bustle, when you find so much beauty its really overwhelming. If just below your modern appartment building, you have a pristine canal and ducks and swans - well, it really does take your breath away. And you wonder how its possible. You wonder what did we do wrong in our cities. Are we so unaethetic or is that part of the globe just not so pretty? Delhi gets pretty in the winter, but thats short lived, and has so many other unpleasant connotations attatched to it. Alright, I should not get personal here. Delhi is pretty in the winter. But the smoke, and the traffic and the garbage. The dirty smog that settles every evening coz of the pollution.

I had gone to Munnar in May - its a picture perfect place. Beautiful hills and lovely weather in the middle of the Indian summer. It really has a lot going for it. But the main town? Its ugly. There are small budget hotels sprouting up like weeds on the hill sides. They are bright pink and indigo blue with ugly facades. The market place is a jumble of concrete buildings, of myriad shapes and sizes. It has just begun developing, its not a very old town. I wonder why someone can't come up with one aesthetic pattern for development of that pretty town? Very soon it will look like downtown Ooty, where you wonder why you came there at all. There is no quaintness left in that town, its a dusty, dirty town. The only sanity is the Botanical Garden there. You have to get away from our towns and cities to find beauty. Thats my whole point. Here, its right here. I dont have to run away anywhere to find it. Its under the building, its by the side of the road, its by the side of the pavement.

I just had to write this down before I slept. The pictures of the sky... I will put them up tomorrow!

Nepalese Food In Leidsplien, Amsterdam

2008-07-20T09:04:00.000-07:00

A day back we left home late in the evening only to have dinner. Its getting a little tiring to go sight seeing everyday, really, even though the weather is nice and one does not get as tired as in India. But still, maybe its the mind that tires out. My brother took me to Leidseplien. I thought just Dam Square and Amsterdam Central were buzzy. How many places in one city can be buzzy??!! Leidseplien was terribly terribly buzzy. Young buzzy. There were hardly any older folks around. The lanes were packed with discotheques and cafes. There was music streaming out of everywhere. At the main square (plien) there was a musician who played music for almost 3-4 hours... can't say he was the best I've heard but he was fun, and added music to the atmosphere. Then there was this guy who played the electric guitar for a long time with a lot of background music on his sound system. There was also a comedian performing for a while, but I found his humour pretty crass, I was wondering how so many people were laughing to his jokes!

So, the food options were pretty simple. Leidseplien is famous for its steaks and almost all the cafes there served really good ones. It was a little nauseating, I have to admit, to see people grappling with huge pieces of meat on their plates and tweasing the flesh out with their teeth. I am fond of steaks, I knew it was gonna be beaf that I would mostly get here and beaf steaks that were popular. I am sure they would have laughed had I even suggested a chicken steak to them! That truely happens only in India!

We passed by this quiet Nepalese restaurant and were amused by the fact that they served "Dal Bhaat and Tarkari", thats the kinda language I often hear from my Grandmom who is from Bihar! Nepal and Bihar anyway border each other so there! We decided it was a little silly to have dal and rice for twelve euros so went off searching for another place. Then ... suddenly, the urge to eat "dal bhaat tarkari" happened. I have been eating all kinds of trash food this past ten days or so. Fried chips, yucky Mc Donald burgers... all that just got to me and I knew my food for the evening would be this Nepalese fare!

Its a little difficult to aptly describe what that dal bhaat tarkari really tasted like. I am serious. Coz, if I compare it to food back home, it was quite simply, not comparable. It was quite ordinary. But both me and my brother really relished every morsel and even asked for two extra rotis for two euros each!! We came to the conclusion that the only kinda food it can be compared to is "hostel food". Difficult to describe that again! You know, one hates the hostel food. There is monotony in taste and menu. But after a long day of college and roaming around, there really is nothing like hostel food. I still remember the taste of the paneer and aloo ki sabji that was a delicacy then, it was watery and we had to count the paneer pieces for each one of us. Sometimes we even traded the paneer for other things!

I hope I have managed to get across the taste of the food we ate. I wish I had taken a picture of the food itself. It was interesting and I know my brother would take his friends back there again!I have to tell my nani next time I meet her that I had Dal Bhaat Tarkari in Amsterdam! And actually loved it!

2008-07-17T15:18:00.000-07:00

Today we went to this park on the way back from Albert Cuyp Market ( where by the way I nearly made myself bankrupt! AJ will definitely kill me when he sees his bank balance! ). This was probably a small neighbourhood park with swings and slides, there was also this small lake there with lots of ducks and one stork. Me and Abir went and sat very close to the ducks next to the lake. These ducks just kept on feeding on the grass almost ignoring our presence. They almost were not scared of us. Not almost, they were not. This city, and maybe this country and the government must be like this. Letting everyone be. Not afraid of anyone, so not reacting to anyone. I have rarely seen a brawl here, noone raises their voice. The only time I did see someone furious was at the Central Station where there are too many foreigners and difficult to figure who is a native and who is not.

My brother told me that once in his office a colleague of his, a Dutch native, took 2 -3 days off and everyone was wondering what was up with him. Maybe someone wrong with a family member, maybe some other trouble at home. The day he got back to work, he said, you know - I had the worst time of my life, I am really in a fix! When asked what had happened, he said, you know my Dad's cat, she fell sick and I have been running to the Vet everyday coz of that! Oh well... people probably really have no issues here. And seriously, if you look around, you'd realise that there is very little reason to! Its all so calm and beatiful and serene. Almost feels like a fairytale land. I have no experience of any other foreign country or city, but maybe that truely makes my view uncoloured. I would come back here to Amsterdam anyday! Dutch immigration beware of me!

The Pancake Bakery in Westermarkt, Amsterdam!

2008-07-16T05:24:00.001-07:00

Today was one of the better of these anyway fantastic days. Started off with the local flea market near my brothers' house. It was fun and interesting, one coz i found so many Indian shopkeepers there talking to us in Hindi and freely giving discounts to their countrymen and two, coz this is probably the only place where one can shop without going bankrupt! So shop we did, I shopped for clothes and my brother for clothes for her girlfriend back in India. Next we went to Amsterdam Central to get tickets for Paris. We were given this token number and it took almost an hour for our turn to come. Bad news this time. The ticket prices we were expecting had shot up considerably and it seemed almost unaffordable. So after waiting that long we had to go back empty handed, with very little idea of how to reach Paris! Bus was an option or cheaper deals on the net. Amstel Bus station was a tube ride away, but somehow we were just not in the mood to carry on there.

Instead, we went to Westernmarkt, probably the most beautiful area of Amsterdam I have seen so far. At the face of it looks like all of the other canal lanes near Amsterdam Central but it just had a different feel... something quieter and more quaint. The Anne Frank House is in Westernmarkt. I did not go there today, did’nt plan to – but I could not help wondering how she and so many others felt being transported for no fault of theirs from this idyllic, beautiful place to a concentration camp. Made me realise there is a painful past to these cities. Like all other cities I guess. But this one is almost so painfully beautiful that any tragedy seems kinda out of place here.

Alright now! The main purpose of today’s blog – hmm! Yumm actually! The Pancake Bakery. Walking through one of the lanes off Westernmarkt by the canal you come across this really old antique looking door. Not ornate antique, but humble antique. I am so glad I did not just pass it by! It seems kinda dark when you peep inside to have a look. But once you do peep inside, well, you cant not go inside! It just has this warm inviting feel. We had to wait a minute or two to be seated. Pancakes. I don’t think we have explored the true potential of the humble pancake. Atleast not in our country. The only restaurant trying to do something interesting is probably crepe station, but it so not comes even close to what this restaurant is! I am being ridiculous just saying the two names in the same breath ! We ordered a ham and cheese and onions pancake, just one to split. And thank god for that! It was huge, much bigger than a big size pizza! And boy, it melted in your mouth. The cheese had become a little crispy on the top... and that was so awesome. There is probably not a better marriage possible than ham and cheese! And ham and cheese on this yummy pancake – I have no words ! Just that my mouth is watering again thinking about it! Gotta think about going there again soon!!

And yes! I forgot to mention the really cute ice cream they got for Abir with a small sparkler on top! Abir was fascinated! They had a separate children's menu and got Abir books to see and a really sweet wooden baby chair too!

2008-06-26T01:18:00.000-07:00

Abir started play school last week. The first two days I was there with them, so he was fine. After that, I had to leave him alone. He cried, somedays for almost twenty mins. The first time we left the kids alone, all the moms (and one dad too) stayed back for the entire duration of the class... we had our ears pinned to the door of the class room. Any noise of crying and we would be on alert, whose kid is it this time?!

I seriously feel that moms ( and dads!) need more counselling than the little kids. The kids know no better, they probably think this is the way things function in their world. You grow up a bit and then you have to go to school. Getting used to the idea that our dearest darling babies are going to be away from us for two hours, under somebody else's supervision is really hard to take. In Abir's school they dont allow you to talk to the teachers after the first week, you have to take an appointment and come if you have some special concerns. The thrity second meeting I have with his teacher when she hands him over to me, I try to read her eyes, her tone of voice, the way she looks at Abir to figure how it really went for the both of them inside the class! Call me paranoid - if not for this rule, I know I would eat the teachers head asking her what Abir did all the time! If he smiled enough, played with the other kids... managed to do this activity, act out the rhymes or not...!

So... this is now almost the end of the second week of school. Abir puked today, he does that when he cries very intensely, he has done it once before in the school and I had shared my opinion with the teachers that this is normal and I wont be too concerned if this happened again. Still, the teacher called me and said maybe Abir is unwell so he puked? Oh well... this naughty, cheerful kid I left at the school door was definitely not unwell. I went to the school, waited and as I expected, he was fine after some time.

The owner of the school told me that along with the moms even the teachers have become a little paranoid! Hmm... now... really, whats one to do? So these will be stressful times, however hard one tries... there will be bumps and bruises on the way... Our little kids will grow up anyway, and hopefully, become the way we want them to, with some jarring edges here and there - how can I forget how much I troubled my mom when I was growing up? So I really can't expect to be not troubled by my son later on... I wont. But still, will I take it in my stride... maybe - maybe not..... its all hit and try here... but its fun all the same!

Gotta rush to pick up Abir from the school... more later!

a day in the life of abir gupta!

2008-06-11T08:01:00.001-07:00

abir out on the lane... taing a ride behing a boy whose bike he took a fancy to... playing with paddy - the dog in the lane who wears shoes! kissing the li'l baby who comes out for a walk with his grandad... and talking to a delivery boy! he has the most interesting life...!

bombay port trust road

2008-06-11T07:49:00.001-07:00

found both these pictures on the bombay port trust road... dunno how we landed up there, so many roads were closed coz of water logging... so one wrong turn led to another and god knows how we reached town that day! the good thing were these pics! love them both! shot them from the car, so they really are, found pictures!

pigeons

2008-06-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

you go this way

i go that

somewhere

we'll meet... i am sure...

leaves reflected

2008-06-08T21:37:00.000-07:00

there goes the mind... frolicking... lakes... deep... mysterious... shadows mislead... show us things that dont exist...

stay here awhile wont' u?

2008-06-08T21:33:00.000-07:00

stay here a while... wont u? the river is wide, deep and endless... here, there is quietness... the roar dies down here... and i can stay still in my mind...its like each moment has its corners pinned down... stay here awhile... wont u?

the lakeside series

2008-06-08T21:23:00.000-07:00

literally dug out these pics from some old forgotten folder... maybe thats how precious things lie... hidden... there is a time to find them... i did'nt know i shot these till a today! its like these pictures came with a story to tell... i just shot them... somehow they have come together... harmonious, whole...delicate... saying things like never before... i am listening... i am here... say what u want to... the other voices... are quieter now... i can hear the smallest voice, the faintest whisper...

Bloody Gulmohars by Ajay

2008-06-08T12:08:00.000-07:00

Every drop in an ocean contains the water of all the rivers that flow into it.

The pain was at its peak now, and strangely sweet. Like when you catch a leather ball on a winter morning. It is so intense that the only way you can handle it is by looking forward to it again.

He had decided that he wanted to be in his forest house. Alone. Well, almost alone. He had surrounded himself with his past – all of it - whether warm or frightening. Old letters. The first western music album he had heard. A well thumbed children’s fiction book he had not returned to his school library.

At 47, you have already lived many lifetimes especially if you had a seeking gypsy spirit. To contain all those lifetimes in one room was a ridiculous thought, at least in hindsight. You could not blame him altogether though, he had no precedents to go by.
He had read about these moments, seen them on TV shows, but nothing had prepared him for what was coming up.

Soon, a burst of joy in an infinite sphere entered him. Bright blue joy. With that the smell of fresh mangoes on a summer afternoon. The smell was a strange mix of green and yellow, he wiped his brow. The fan had stopped working. Through the window, a breeze brought in the girl-smell of a sweaty teenager carrying a large school bag. One of the books was a love story. The character was like him, detached yet loving. She had often sat with him on the steps near the school playground, asking him about what he wanted to do with himself. Salvation was more than a song on a young boy's lips. A large tape player was spooling a rock track. He was trying to decipher the lyrics. He could see from the eyes at the back of his head, someone pouring out from a half empty whiskey bottle. Still so hot, he wiped his brow once again. The taste was foul, and he pretended to go out for some fresh air. He poured out the drink into the pot outside in the porch. Sweet Gulmohars, lanes washed with blood red flowers. Freshly strewn about by the stormy monsoon.

Three thousand aeons in a moment. He smiled to no one in particular.

There is no particular moment that you can recall when you can recall when your name, body and form are associated together in your mind. It’s probably difficult to establish whether that degree of objective self awareness is possible at all. However, this is that moment when all your wisdom is brought out and challenged to a test. You have to give up a forty seven year old identity, and faith is your only crutch. Faith that you are merely getting off on one of the stations. For a restful cup of tea. You can reach out to the top tier, pull out a jacket, take out a pack of cigarettes from the left pocket, or was it right? And get off on a cold, very cold platform. Its foggy outside, and the vendors are calling out half sleepy. In a strange accent. You can barely see your hand which is anyway mostly hidden inside your jackets pocket. It’s thrilling to wait for the train to start moving, thrilling to know that you might have to miss it. And not know when the next one will come.

What will it be like to have to stay in this unknown town for an unknown period? What if this town has only blind people? Like in the telefilm he saw when he was young. And the only person with sight is the beautiful daughter of the priest. What if the price for marrying her is losing your vision for ever? What if..

His thoughts are jolted by the distant whistling of the train. He looks outside his window. The last leaf is barely clutching the thin branch. The monsoon breeze is flapping around the leaf, now almost brown.

He takes one last breath. The leaf sways downwards and goes deeper and deeper into the valley. White silence now.

2008-02-25T05:33:00.000-08:00

We were taking a walk down marine drive when we came across these really beautiful flower girls. There were four of them... and all of them looked like supermodels! One of them resembled Boticelli's Venus so much I have uploaded one of his paintings here for comparison. The resemblance is quite unreal! I could write loads here... but I'd rather let the pictures speak for themselves...

2008-01-29T11:52:00.000-08:00

Its funny, one of the things that I can recall so vividly about our yearly trips to Delhi are the kolhapuri chappals I used to ask mom to buy for me. They obviously had to last me the entire year… I loved how they used to hurt my feet when they were new… and how, slowly… they would smoothen out… and become almost like second skin. I don’t think there is anything in the world more precious than old kolhapuri chappals! Just the thought of them makes me ache for them! I don’t know why I don’t buy them anymore – I find it tedious to wear them out. The very thing I used to love as a child.

Nani’s house in the summer… in the scorching, mind numbing Delhi summer. That small house sure had a big heart. It could take in endless people… I have seen it so full of family during my aunt’s wedding… they just fitted in… God knows how, they just did. Now that I think of it, that house was really small. If I tried going there again, I’d feel like its caving in upon me… it was small and dark and lovely.

We used to live for a couple of years in this really back of beyond town in the tip of what is now Chhattisgarh. There was no railway line there, so one had to drive 300 kms to the nearest big town to catch the train to Delhi. I remember once me and my brother were so excited to leave, we could not sleep… so we bathed and got ready in the night. Then just stayed awake all night… to leave…

There is something so special about these trips to Nani’s place. It felt the same when we were in the same city. It was not just about going to another city. I remember the older RK Puram house… strange things I remember of it… this grape vine running along one side of the house, it felt so exotic then… getting my ears pierced by one of these men who used to roam around with a wooden box with them… and had these really pretty ear-rings in them….the first ear-ring I wore… a gold string with a tiny red and black bead in it…Benji, the big white pomerarian jumping on me soon as he saw me (he came from a long line of poms that we bred at home!)… the really pretty pink lace material nani gifted me… I remember the exact moment she turned to open her almirah and showed me the cloth… and the dress I eventually got made after that… the trips to the RK Puram market… the small library nani got her Mills & Boons from… the ice-creams and masala dosa she always treated me with…the long chats my aunt had with her friends on the street… the Chinese van that my aunt’s pal owned… and the yummy food we got to eat there!....fish curry on Sundays… my mom standing on the main door of the house after she got her first stylish hair-cut…mama’s Yezdi…

30th January, 0035hrs.

2008-01-21T22:19:00.000-08:00

Just the other day, A fell from the stairs... both of us saw him roll down and fall on the ground. Luckily, miraculously he was unhurt. But that scene just keeps playing and replaying in front of my eyes. Its probably the scariest sight for me. To see your little baby falling down and not being able to do anything about it.

Isn't it kinda representative of the uncountable other times when we may have to see him going through something that we can't control? God alone knows the kind of circumstances and situations that he will have to deal with. We will never be able to really prevent them from happening... all we can do is after the fall... after the hurt. We can be there for him only after the pain. Makes me realise that we really can't control the lives of our children. They will go through what they must. What they bring towards them will affect them, good or bad. I hope mostly its good, but sometimes the bad will also come. I know how much the bad times have taught me about life... he will learn like that too.

I hope A knows that he can always come to us after the hurt. And we can assuage the pain. Tend over the wounds.

Children broaden our view of life so much. Its like the switch between windows option on the computer... for a second all that you have been through as children comes in front of your eyes. And then, we can act, maybe with some degree of understanding from our own past experiences as kids. Did our parents think like this too? I wonder...

AB; 22/Jan, Bandra

2008-01-20T23:21:00.000-08:00

Four of us were sitting in Hard Rock... thought of doing something interesting... so wrote this chain poem. Somehow reveals our states of mind... even without us knowing it. Interesting
exercise...

aj: once again I am under the spotlight

db: ...and a million miles away...

sd: I am cluless, but i know i belong here...

ab: so many years I've been drifting... and finally here...

aj: my blues forgotten - though i remember the shades

db: ...of an ocean that looks like a thousand diamonds
strung strung out from the land within...

sd: lets be children again lets play with marbles...

ab: ...the sun, the sand, the sea... why do they all seem so new to me?

aj: maybe its supposed to start again with the light at the end of the tunnel - I am coming home

2.

sd: and yet again the strings have started to take charge of me...

ab: different vibrations... each string has its own little story to tell...

aj: ironic - the puppeteer has become a puppet...

db: and the accuser the victim...

sd: but I am still not me..
my "me" is playing hide and seek...

ab: kuchh bhi soch lo...
"soch" nahin yahan...

aj: is baar aandhi mein patte
udte hain ban_ke dhuaan

db: mano is dil ke bikhre katron ke samaan...
dobara jod dete_in hain trahi huye sansar ko...

sd: chalo bikhre tukdon ko dhoondein
par kam roshni hain...
chalo kuchh roshni udhaar maang laate hain...
lamp-post se.......

ab: katron mein shayad na mile vo...
vo jo antaral ke theek pehle...
na jaane kab chala gaya...

aj: kal subah ke akhbaar
ki surkhiyon mein kahin
dhoond lena mujhe!

db: miloo_n nahin to mastak ko

apne ambar ki o_r uthha kar

charchit huye un taaro_n

mein ghule mishran

ki aas mein...

lahu bankar daud raha

hoonga main...

sd: is waqt ko lifafe mein band kar leti kaash...

aur phir kabhi koi yun-hi-sa nam din

aata to u_s lifafe se

ek-aadhi hansi

nikaal leti...

19th/20th jan '08 at Hard Rock, Mumbai...

2007-12-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

Can't deny that the Khajjiar meadows were picture perfect!

A shepherd on the road...

Fifth June, 1600 hrs.,2005 (Ajay)
After negotiating a hard fought vacation of no less than three weeks from my corporate humdrum existence, I finally set off to Delhi along with Ambika, my wife of no less than three years. Well, actually, a little less than three years. We have quite a travel bug, the two of us, and it seems to visit us very periodically. I guess we haven’t got a permanent cure for it, which I suspect is a good thing after all.

It was the peak of summer in Bombay, the monsoon promising to deceive. It was fifth of June when we set off for Delhi in the Rajdhani. Darn, we got the side berths again! After what seemed to be yet another long unwieldy journey we reached a hotter city, if that were possible. A different kind of heat- one that could kill you faster.

Sixth June, 2000 hrs.
We spent a total of two evenings in Delhi; the first one was accompanied by a very Delhi sandstorm. The wind was as fast as eighty kilometers per hour, or so the Hindustan Times reported the next morning. We were safely drinking in the confines of the Palam Defence Officers Mess. Ambika and her Wg Cmdr uncle were on Royal Challenge with Soda, and me on Ciplox, Rum and Water. The less said about the Ciplox the better. When the showers that followed the storm ceased a bit we ran off to Nirula's at Vasant Vihar, near Priya. Hmmm, the salami Pizza remains the same as I first had in School, way back in the last century as does the HCF(Hot Chocolate Fudge, for the unfortunate uninitiated).

Seventh June, 1500 hrs
Its 5th June now, the Celsius which had dipped almost 10 degrees to 24, is back where it enjoys best, and we are hidden away in PVR Saket, trying to get scared by the return of the Ring. Naomi Watts is nice, the movie not so. Anyway we are raring to leave now. A brief last minute trip to a convenience store is in order. I can only think of Cheese Slices and Cup'o Noodles. Ambika is much more creative I guess. By the time we reach the check out counter, our bill has run up to almost seven hundred bucks - mostly essentials we must grant her.

Eighth June, 0500 hrs (eew!)
Jagdish and the double blower Qualis are parked outside. Jagdish is our polite Haryanavi driver, who has supposedly seen all of Himachal and then some. Bags are in and we are off to Dalhosuie. It’s a long drive via two states - Haryana and Punjab. We will hit Ludhiana, Jullundher, Pathankot and then the hills. A distance of almost 600 kms. We pay Rs 7.5 per km, a good deal wrangled out of a "connection", and you know what that means only if you are from Delhi. This way we are curving in to Himachal from the top left corner, after which we will gently slip down over the next thirteen days.

Around 1300 hrs, you hit the outskirts of the Jullundher cantonment. Theres this uber hip place called the Haveli which promises authentic Punjabi cuisine, and does it deliver. The Mutter Paneer and Rajma are out of the world. Tummies fed we are on our way again only to be briefly stopped by a Surdarji cop ( he could scare off Sunny Deol on any given day), apparently for jumping a light. Fortunately, its India, and a hundred bucks go a long distance.

The hills can be seen a few kilometers after Pathankot. Just a little hint and then full fledged. From Pathankot, Dalhousie is almost seventy kilometers, the last thirty odd through hills passing small villages (Banikhet and some equally non descript ones). A mini tempo has hit a Scorpio bringing traffic to a complete halt. After a lot of ineffective pleading and crowd pressure which doesn't help in getting either vehicle off, Jagdish squirms the car out of what seemed like a space insufficient for even a Maruti 800.

We are pretty tired now, and desperately in need of a hot bath. Entering Dalhousie, half of our tiredness is washed away. There is a breathtaking view of snow capped mountains, and the day couldnt be clearer. Its around an hour and a half from sundown, and we promise to shoot the mountains on reaching the hotel.

We try at a couple of hotels (Surya - 800 plus taxes - full, XXX - 800 -taxes waived off - dirty), and then spot Himdhara. Its on the same road as the others, the one leading to Gandhi Chowk (where the GPO and Mall road lie). A flight of steps down, and you enter this small hotel which overlooks the hills. The sound of the screaming kids from XXX is distant here, and you get a panoramic view of the valley and the mountains afar. We quickly settle to a room tarriff of Rs. 600. Clean beds, geyser and home like food, Sounds like a deal.

We have to figure out what all to see tomorrow, plan the Khajjiar trip and yeah - the hot bath. In all of this the shoot schedule is skipped. The food is made to order - Zeera Aloo and Dal Makhani it is for us. Having got the food ordered, we walk up to the Mall (Jagdish is absconding) - a five minute climb. There is a small market, lest the word Mall remind you of the one in Simla.
We bought some music for the car, and sipped a quick cup of black coffee. Bodies are tire d and its getting mildly chilly. Its about time to hit a small Rum, with the hot food following. We gulped down the food quickly, watched over the lights in the valleys and retired to a very deserved sleep. Good Night.
-------------------*-------*-------------------------

Ninth June, 0930 hrs (Ambs)
First thing I remember the room was flooded with light. Bright mountain sunlight. I was sure it was eleven or twelve in the morning - something about the mountains just messes up my sense of time – it was only nine o’ clock in the morning! Good thing we woke up early, somehow the body clock works more accurately when you are close to nature – in the city I can be sleeping till twelve and I would not really know!

The mountains outside were clear – snow capped peaks in the distance, crowning the vista. Something about the hotel we were staying in was pretty homely – it hardly felt like an alien place, even the town felt kinda known. I don’t know if the place espouses you or we – espouse the place – but the mountains sure do things to your psyche. I know for sure I have wanted to build a home in each of the mountain towns I have visited.

Breakfast was in the town, in the so called Mall. We went to Cafe Dalhousie, right in the beginning of the Mall, it had a nice bright ambience and lemon yellow wrought iron chairs outside. Quite inviting! The petunias hanging on the doors made it even more so! Nice, clean place, but no guarantee what the food would be like. So we try. I am a bit adventurous so order Paneer Parathas, Ajay goes the simpler, tried and tested way so orders bread and omlette. As expected, his omlettes were good, my paratha oily and made of refined flour instead of wheat, so basically terribly unappetizing! I get these funny looks from Ajay coz he had warned me and I end up with the wrong food orders pretty often! Well – I expect too much from piddly restaurants I guess! The mention of paneer parathas in the menu almost got me salivating coz they reminded me of the yummy ones I used to have at home! So anyway, I tried some vada sambhar after that, it was almost tolerable!

We had thought of looking around Dalhousie town, the churches and a particular graveyard in the hills we read about in the travel book. Somehow, we lost the enthusiasm to do that after seeing one church in the middle of the town square, it seemed pretty ordinary and the doors were tightly shut. I like to see the interiors of churches… I got the feeling here I would not be able to do that, so the town tour was dropped. Instead, we did the Khajjiar trip today. On the way was the Tibetan refugee village, one of the several small settlements in the country offered to the Tibetan people by Pandit Nehru.

There was this huge school building right at the entrance of the village. Bright orange asbestos rooftops almost shocked the eyes in the bright sunlight. A little kid was running off to school – round, podgy faced – just like the rest of the kids we saw there!

We tried to ask for directions to the Tibetan Craft Center but neither English or Hindi seemed to work for us. The Tibetan kids just smiled back or whispered something to each other. Walking further ahead, we got some men sitting and chilling out, who pointed out the temple to us. There is a small temple, and a big one, the latter a bit of a climb. We satisfied ourselves with the smaller one, going all around rotating the prayer wheels.

The village/settlement is quite sweet, clean and peaceful. There is interesting Tibetan music streaming from here and there, which Ambika tells me is going to be all over Mcleodganj, where we are headed tomorrow. She got going shooting some wildflowers and some Tibetans in a car passing by asked if we were enjoying ourselves. Good natured lot these.

Onwards to Khajjiar of which we have heard mixed reviews though mostly positive ones. The drive was a bit scary, through thin circuitous roads. We pass by a small detour to Kala top promising to visit in on our way back. This area is marked as a sanctuary though Jagdish says he has never seen or heard of any wild animals there.

Khajjiar was a complete disappointment. Well it is a pretty little meadow, with a floating island amidst a small pond in the center. It would have been beautiful if it was short of some two thousand people. Making a touristy mess as usual, buying balloons, taking pony rides and creating a general hell. When we asked the driver what there is to do here, he pointed out to some huge balloons in the distance and said – woh balloon hain na wahan! – right!

We had a quick bite, food was completely not special. There are tons of daisies all over the park which we dutifully captured. And then set off. When we reach Kala top, we realize that rain could be around the corner. In Dalhousie it seems to rain every evening without much warning. The guards at the Kala Top road entrance say that cars can only go in lots of four odd, at a time and we will have to wait more than an hour. Walking is an option which we ignore given the rain threat.

We move back to Gandhi Chowk, where we give the churches a pass, and move towards this place called Panchpulla ( supposed to have had five wooden bridges converge here) . The promised waterfalls are missing, the place is not even worth spending ten minutes at. We let Jagdish have tea and pakoras, crib about tourist books being all hype (“ever since shooting started in Kashmir they started creating destinations in Himachal”) and then head back.

Got some rest in the hotel, it started raining, and we were wondering between wanting to eat in the town or stay put in the hotel. There was lots of thunder and lightening, made funny noises on the tin roof. Finally we went to this place called Kwality which was a pleasant surprise. Air conditioned, full of little Sardarjis and lots of butter chicken smell in the air. We resisted the temptation and had mutter paneer and chana masala. One kid had butter chicken and then almost finshed off an eight inch pizza. Whew, gave us quite a complex. Rain had cleansed the atmosphere, and we sauntered down hill to the hotel.

2007-12-26T04:02:00.000-08:00

Hotel Ragini, Naggar - 16th June, 2005 - 2230 hrs, (Ambs)

Not written for two days now. Naggar turned out to be beyond our collective imaginations. We ventured out of Naggar both today and yesterday, only to return by late evening to the chilled out town, comfortably tired.

The treacherous road to Ladakh through the buried dead (Rohtang Pass), June 13th
The first thing that comes to mind is that I don’t wana leave! I am completely enchanted by this little town. Probably more by this particular part of the Himachal. The town is where we stay, the area around is where we spend most of our day. Ajay tells me we should leave day after tomorrow, for two reasons, ostensibly. One, Naggar is really far away from Delhi and we have to reach back on the 20th to save an extra days’ fare of the cab. Two, it disturbs his well planned trip. I would have happily stayed here till the 20th. I love the place…

Thoughts of Bombay are almost scary right now. Just thinking about it, a shiver runs down my spine. The first thought is, its so concrete, dry and alien. Here, its so warm, the mountains have a way of reaching out to you, no matter where you go. I remember feeling this way even when I was younger and used to travel with my parents. The hills felt like home. Maybe I will come back someday to make a home. I doubt the city will hold me in for too long.

The day began a little late for us today, I don’t know how we overslept, must have woken up around ten thirty or so, went out for breakfast only around eleven thirty. Did not feel like an elaborate one, so just went to the chai shop at the corner, with those friendly women. We had boiled eggs, bread n butter and lemon tea. Sounds exotic does it? Well, the lady at the chai shop was quick to adapt to our tastes, and without asking made us the lemon tea! It was quite nice – always feels better to eat in these small roadside joints.

We didn’t have a great plan for today, but somehow it did turn out to be one of the nicest days. Started off with a drive to Solang Valley. We had to go the same way we went for Rohtang Pass, so stopped again at the dhaba that made those awesome parathas. As expected they were great, probably even better today! The locals here are extremely friendly, they make us feel really at home. So twice if you happen to go to the same place they’d make you feel like you have always been coming there!

The Beas roared right outside the dhaba. Its backside was the river. The Beas is a roaring, boisterous river in this part, it’s enlivening to just watch it! I haven’t seen anything like it ever. I don’t know how the Ganga is nearer its source, must be something like this one. Beas is beautiful. On the way to Rohtang Pass, you could see these huge blocks of ice fa... (Looks like I trailed off here... maybe got busy with something else there or just plain tired!...Make what u will of it!)

2007-12-26T03:25:00.000-08:00

Dharmkot, the pizza place...

They had these awesome painted posters inside the cafe in Dharmkot...

Cafe in McLeodganj... had the most amazing jacket potatoes with ham there!! Found absolutely nowhere else!!

Kareri Lodge, Mcleodganj- 11th June, 2005 - 1700 hrs, AB

First morning in Mcleodganj. It was compfortable in the night, not too cold not too hot… far warmer than Dalhousie. We didn’t need to wear any woolens at all! Breakfast was at the same place where we had tea yesterday – Snow Lion Restaurant, I had come here five years back with my parents and frantically searched it out again, the food I remembered was absoloutely awesome. We were not disappointed at all. We had French Toast and Honey Pancake, the French Toast were really nice, the pancake, more like a thin soft cake, don’t know how they make it like that, it was nice, but kinda heavy. The restaurant is a haunt of all the young Tibetan girls and boys, and is usually full of them. The girls prefer having huge bowls of fruits, probably that is the secret of their slim figures. Yesterday as well as today a tiny puppy wandered in … he did not seem like a pet coz he was quite scrawny – but nobody seemed to mind his presence there. The restaurant has this small terrace looking out into the backs of the other buildings there. Quite a pleasant place to sit, but the tables are always full there.

I got bitten by a dog back in Bombay and today I have to get the last dose of my rabies vaccine, I have been worried all this time that I will not be able to find the vaccine in this small hill town, but I do, and also find a nice Doc who gives me an amazing painless shot, he almost jabs it into my but, like you see in the movies, and I did not even feel a pin-prick! Terribly relieved to have found my vaccine!

Dharmkot is the next destination, about 3 kms up from Mcleodganj. Ideally we should have walked it, but we are lazy bums, so take the Qualis.

Vipasana Centre, Dharmkot

Last time I came I remember seeing a sign for a pizza place, I was with my parents and you know how parents can be, when they don’t wana go somewhere they just don’t. So, I had made promises to come back right there some other time and spend all the time that I wanted to spend there. And here I was again, retracing my path. I did find it. It was this really quaint little joint, overlooking the valley and the snow capped Dhauladhar peak in the distance, which keeps playing hide and seek all the time. There are mostly foreigners there, and one odd Indian family, who came searching for the “Pizza Place” mentioned in their travel book. The son actually had the cheek to ask the guy if it was the same place – I think the guy just got bugged and said it wasn’t, there was another place in the town!

The pizza – hmm… quite amazing. We had chicken, garlic and olive pizza. It was better than any i’d had anywhere else, maybe I had better ones in Aurolville, but then they were cooked probably by Italians themselves! The entire pizza disappeared in less then ten minutes!

We have rested a bit now. Mutton momos are beckoning. The show today at 2115 hrs is “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. Strangely enough, you find it where you are least looking for it. The Sarvodaya Library at Pali Hill is always claiming it has gone out. i am pretty sure its not gonna be a disappointing film! Could it be that we also get to see “Motorcycle Diaries” tomorrow or are we expecting too much now??!!

11:45 pm –

Alright – saw the film – and the mind is in a tizzy right now! The “theatre” was small, warm and kinda suffocating, the seats were bad too, they were too narrow, so u really could not do much with it, could not put your feet up, could not even lean back and put your whole but on the seat! But the movie was so gripping that you just had to sit through! And it was fun – the whole experience and I think given the chance I would do it again. Tried deconstructing the movie, putting it into a linear narrative, maybe we cracked it maybe we didn’t. Don’t really know! Sometimes you deconstruct so deep that some flaws of the script mislead you. And most of these movies that mess with the memory and the mind have one or two minor flaws somewhere that completely sets you off into the wrong direction.

We rushed dinner as much as we could, Aj had a bowl of fruit, obviously inspired by the young Tibetan girls he is so much in love with, I had this huge bowl of chicken curry with Tingmo, which is steamed bread. Very nice but I didn’t have too much of an appetite and I was hurrying for the movie! Saw the tiny scrawny puppy again, today noone paid any attention to it, it just roamed around aimlessly around the place.

(These are parts of a travelogue me and Ajay wrote while going through some parts of Himachal... writing it all together will be too boring... so I am gonna keep adding bits and pieces once in a while from the travelogue)

2007-12-26T02:01:00.000-08:00

Its been a while since I have really shot anything for myself. It seems all I can shoot and have eyes for is my son... ! It seems I get these jelly-fish like ideas... they slip away the moment I try and grasp them...
These pictures I took yesterday...