Monday, December 11, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
sometimes you miss the old haunts. the memories. and the ridiculous amounts of money you paid for those memories. rs 10.50 for a movie ticket not too long ago as compared to rs 150 now is not indicative of inflation. no. it's something else. it's perhaps the death of an old way.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
"more fried than the greasiest fry. more bombed out than afghanistan. is it a bedsheet? is it a popsicle with hair? it's (drumroll) bedsheet bob."
later this evening, our inimitable superhero, bedsheet bob flutters back into town. it's going to be a big wild party. i promise.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
while my dreams
should be made
of things profound
like glowing amethysts
in the amber sky
of my perennial dusk.
my dreams today
harp, chew and mull
over how the hell
i'm going to get past
my next mission
in gta vice city.
i've got the bug gamer
from jack the ripper
it's quite a bummer.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
while the kids roared in the aisles, sister philomina giggled. while the kids squirmed in their seats at the slightest hint of carnal love on stage, sister philomina giggled. while the curtains came down on one super grand visual feast, sister philomina giggled. and i strongly suspect sister philomina giggled well into the night and into sunday as well. and between hail marys, sister philomina giggled.
more pics. more slander. it's all here.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
i don't know how it has come to be. but the camera has fascinated me for longer than anything else. pipped crayons, pastels, air guns, video games, pyromania and other habits of the past, to my choice of distraction. i've never really idolised (z?) anybody. and all of a sudden it occurs to me that bresson and capa and the others occupy a bigger part of my conscience than i have ever cared to admit. as i go to bed every night, when i should ideally be thinking of matinee sirens and lost love and the like, i find my adled brains engaged in a heated near academic debate on whether photography qualifies as art or it just remains a mere chronicle of our times. a dusty file?
and then before slumber takes over, i'm reminded of bresson's wisdom.
"with my open eye i look without.
with my closed eye i look within."
and i know then that it is neither art nor instrument of history. and i'm glad for the buddies out there (hari adi, jack and the like) who understand what i mean. i'm glad. i'm glad.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
village idiots have always fascinated me.
this one here, pretended to die, kill, laugh hysterically, cry until the tears dried up, fall, fly and vapourize into thin air for the benefit of jack's camera.
i must make a certain private confession public. i want to be a goat herd too.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
i remember you drilling bernoulli's into my head. i was five?
i'm sorry, i'm nothing you wanted me to be. but know that i'm thankful for all you taught me. and not just the stuff about aeroplanes and planets and carpentry and diodes.
i remember more than you will give me credit for. i remember most of all that one day you refused to hold my hand as we walked to the vegetable market.
and i'm thankful.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
i said hey bartender
hey man looka here
draw one, draw two, draw three, four glasses of beer
well we was having so much fun
i didnt know it was half past one
i turned around to have one more
i looked at the clock and it was half past four
hey man look a here
a draw one, draw two, draw three, four glasses of beer
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
i don't know where my ideals went. i too wanted to change the world. i remember the coat hangers that i obsessed over - educated opinion. and now at this darkest nadir, i want them back. every stupid notion that had a free run of my head. what snapped?
meaning. the hunt continues.
Monday, September 18, 2006
while our bombers, bombed at the worldcup, closer home (my favorite phrase for the week) myriad school, college, army division and the odd liquor baron's teams battled it out on artificial turf.
i happened to be riding by. and decided to embark on a photostich experiment. this is three snaps and in print size is a whopping 7 feet wide.
ok... they've stolen my noodles!
Thursday, September 14, 2006
man, bird? bird, man? man, bird? bird, man? man, bird? bird, man? BIRDMAN!!
adi adds: "not for mynahs."
surgeons warning: "do not try this at home. if you do, do not feed the mynah before you try this at home. if you do, do not place mynah on t-shirt as demonstrated above."
meanwhile browne is now in the guana biz.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
my obsession with the canines and shonja (you might remember her from an earlier image... staring up... what's the adverb.... wistfully?) in particular, deepens, darkens, mystifies. i'm asking me strange things. am i a dog? profound question. am i a happy dog? profounder question.
fact of the matter is, i'm finding a whole lot more meaning in the much abused phrase - unconditional love. dogs. refrigerators. wind chimes. wall hangings. cats. door knobs. carpets. the inanimate and the mute. i've stepped into a bizarre world. a man with a lot of affection to dispense with (and now for the familiar gripe - and nobody to shower it on), is bound to start looking at the things around him. are these symptoms of some advanced neurosis? profoundest question.
Monday, September 11, 2006
bright sunday afternoon. and i foolishly left the comfort of my book (rumo and his miraculous adventures) to drop off some cousins. another hare-brained mission. another sunday ruined. but then i ran into the biggest mofo traffic jam and the bharat brass band.
i can't handle a vertical frame. i used to be able to. but now... it just throws me off balance. i can't seem to compose... and hate the results inevitably. as also is the case with the above men on stilts. but before aesthetic, i've always put documentation. and so.
along came a legless horseman and stole the apple pie from my window sill.
there are all manners of lesser imps and devils... but the great satan himself is red, scaly, has a biforcated tail and carries a pitchfork.
running into bharat brass band on a particularly depressing sunday was reaffirming. i choose to still believe. in serendipity. in hope. in joy.