Hitting the road for the first time

I think I was the only idiot in the whole of Bangalore who woke up at 5.30 AM on a holiday. It was pitch dark outside and i began to suspect my watch in trying to deceive me into getting up earlier than i should. I assumed that it would be light outside,considering that this is summer. Anyways i was up and ready for action by 6.00 AM armed with my laptop. As i was negotiating the car out of the narrow driveway , i felt a pang of nervousness. I was about to embark on my first photo shoot on the roads of Bangalore and i didnt want to come back disappointed.Would i ever be able to take nice snaps? Or was this all a figment of my imagination ?

I hit the road exactly at 6.15 AM. I gave a wake-up call to my partner in crime who promised to be ready in time. I suspected that i would have to go and wake her up. The drive to the runway was pure magic! The sun was barely above the horizon, the breeze cool and fresh. I had soft music playing on my radio ,with the windows lowered as i eased onto the ring road. I could feel the soft purring of Cleo's engine, the rythmic beating of the pistons...it wasnt long before i was touching 120 kmph. Pure bliss!

I reached the runway on the brink of sunrise. Gul was still weary - eyed, but ready and raring to go.I was actually surprised seeing this. I must admit that i was wrong in my earlier assumption. I later realised that she was as punctual and excited about photography as me. Her enthusiasm and eagerness came like a whiff of fresh air. She didnt want to miss the sunrise at any cost. I learnt later that the sunrise on the first month of the year (on the occasion of Ugadi) is supposed to be really beautiful. By the time we got out with our camera, we realised we were just a little late. The sun had already begun to extend his rays over the horizon. It was still a very pretty sight. The cityscape was really beautiful in the soft light of the morning. The runway was gorgeous. Planes were taking off and landing like any other day. The time of the day didnt seem to matter. However the frequency of landings and take-offs kinda surprised me. You would imagine that flights in a metro like Bangalore would have a higher frequency than 4 minutes. We caught a lot of snaps of the cityscape, the airport, control tower, planes taxiing,I even captured a airforce hangar with a row of Jaguars parked and ready for action! The morning mist accentuated the distant buildings and the whole scene reminded me of "Top Gun".

We then chanced upon a set of 50 or more pigeons roosting on the roof top. Gul wanted me to shoot a snap of the pigeons flying away all at once. But her innate pigeon-attracting skills only kept them rooted to where they stood! Many blurred snaps later, we finally decided to hit the road. However , breakfast beckoned first. A quick call gave us directions to a place serving authentic Sirukudi food. The place was really nice and colorful. The food even better. It was nice seeing Gul enjoy her food so much. She sure misses home food.

After a sumptious breakfast, we hit the road again. It was barely 8:00 AM but the temperature felt like it was touching 35C. Our aim was to shoot snaps depicting the beauty of Bangalore. This being our first outing, we didnt really have a plan on what to shoot. We planned to cover quite a few roads around MGR. Gul discovered a tall tree with plenty of pink flowers off CMH Road. The tree was the highlight of the entire road. The next 20 mins saw plenty of clicking. We met Murugesh who studied in the 5th Std in the local Goverment School. That being a holiday, he was enjoying a game of cricket with his kid sister, his pet dog and its puppy.The enthusiasm and happiness on his face was infectious. More clicks followed.We shot candid pictures of florists, vegetable vendors, wolves, kids, flowers, an enfield, my car, almost anything and everything that looked inviting.

What struck us immediately was the sheer beauty of the place. Being one of the normal bylanes of Bangalore, you would least expect it to throw up so many interesting things.For diehard Bangalore fans, you still have plenty of hope. Bangalore still has a lot of its old world charm. You just need to look and you will feel its presence.As per tradition, the people here were at their friendly best. The florist who readily displayed his red roses for your shoot (they were covered to prevent them from wilting in the heat), the flower lady who gives you a warm smile when you click a photo of kids on the road, the passerby who readily guides you when you are lost, all add to this charm,the very charm that lies entrenched deep in the heart of this beautiful city.The colour that was splashed on the street not just by the wares that the shopkeepers sold, but also by their love and humane down to earth qualities had to be seen to be believed. What stole our hearts the most was the smile that a digital camera put on the faces of the poor kids on the road. These were kids who couldnt afford a lot in life. Some things that we take for granted were pure luxuries for them. But that didnt stop them from smiling in gay abandon. The fact that they were going to be captured on film was enough to kindle their gentle spirits. We had all kinds of poses happening to our delight. I am sure Gul would agree that it gave us a warm feeling when we saw the happiness on their faces when we showed them their photos on the LCD screen.

By the time we finished taking snaps on this single road, we had used up our memory card fully! Nearly 400 snaps in a couple of hours is no mean effort. Even if we got 15 good ones, it would make it worth the effort. It was already 12:00 PM and time to head home. I realised I was a little disoriented .It was pretty exhausting and Gul's sense of direction definetly helped a lot. We went around a block two times before Gul vehemantly announced that she knew the way home and that i just had to ask!! From then on, she decided to give me directions in kannada at every turn and intersection.

We transferred the snaps onto my laptop and i dropped off Gul at the runway and headed home. Driving back home, I couldnt help but reflect on the whole morning.The more i think about photography, the more excited i get. It has more or less become a passion now.I yearn to buy a camera someday. Till then i have Gul and Chandy (another good friend) to give me company and lend their cameras. What makes it all worthwhile is the moment, when you review all the snaps and you find that there is this ONE snap that takes your breath away. It is like immortalizing a moment in time... Little did those kids know that their faces would now be posted on the world wide web , accessible to millions. Its another thing that not many people see my pictures :)

I rolled down the windows,turned on my radio and headed home.

Things i want to do but haven't done....yet!

1. Fly a Cessna
2. Try bunjee - jumping
3. Swim like a fish
4. Go to the gym continuously for a month
5. Explore the mountains in Kashmir
6. Learn to speak fluently in Hindi
7. Be a builder
8. Feed fish in a local pond
9. Learn german
10. Adopt an orphan girl
11. Fabricate a two-way radio
12. Learn to type without looking at the key board
13. Design a cd that can be written on both sides...and sell this idea to 3M..Then coax Creative Labs Inc. to come up with a cd-drive with a movable lens that can accomodate my cds :)
14. Earn enough to keep my bank manager's tummy full.
    
15. Be a good photographer
16. Design my own home .. complete with a huge library, rock garden and with a minimalistic theme
    
17. Own a digital SLR
18. Dance in the rain
19. Learn interior design
20. Have a golden retriever as a pet
21. Join the IAF
22. Learn to play 5 musical instruments
    
23. Shout my lungs out on a mountain top
24. Make my gold fish respond to my call
25. Work for IDEO and then Lockheed
    
26. Live in the jungle for a week
    
27. Try my hand at fencing
    
28. Join the Red Cross
29. Educate a poor girl child
30. Stop coding

India's dark underbelly

I saw her sitting there, all by herself. She was the most beautiful human being i ever saw. She had the most expressive eyes. They were big and as black as the night...They were expressive to the extent that they mirrored her tiniest of emotions. Her rosy cheeks and dazzling smile only added to the aura that surrounded her. She brought about a sudden sense of calm in people she met. Right now , she seemed to be engrossed in the delicate act of feeding her puppy, which looked no more than a couple of weeks old. Her hair was disheveled and flying in the gentle breeze that had picked up.

She is Mary,the daughter of a poor man who could barely make ends meet. Having lost her mother a few months back, she is now the bread earner of her family. She tried different things but ultimately settled for the challenging profile of being a maid ....in no less than 6 households. When you looked at her closely , you can see that the work was taking its toll. Her gentle white hands were bruised with all the washing and harsh detergents. Her feet were cut in several places because of walking barefoot to work everyday. Her body was getting frailer by the day because of the lack of nourishment. To top it off, she was being abused by her father for not earning enough to meet his apetite for country liquor.

Mary had no formal education. Upon questioning , she admitted that it was her dream to go to school and be educated. She said it was her dream to make it big in life. She wanted her country to be proud of her. She wanted to earn enough money to feed all the poor girls in the world and their poor puppies.One look at her and you could feel what happiness was all about. A smile was permanently etched on her face.Music was always on her lips. She was proud of earning money on her own.You could not help but be touched by her sheer innocence.The frankness and maturity in her voice almost belied her age.

Mary is all of 8 years old....

Captured Photons

Here

Recognitive Dysfunction

Painting with light

This is a picture of a swimming pool that i clicked on my trip to Muthodi. I really like the multiple hues that are visible because of the soft lighting. You can see aquamarine turquoise at one end and it graduates into pitch black at the other. The reflections are soft and blurred almost as if they are dusted with an air brush giving the picture an "oil painting" look. The lone spotlight offers a moonlit effect ,creating a sharp contrast with the other reflections ,making this one of my fav snaps!

ps: what i dont like is the ugly timestamp that the DSC H1 inserted. Thought of touching it up with photoshop but decided not to go there :)

The forgotten world

When was the last time you actually WROTE a letter to a loved one ? Ok let me rephrase my question. When was the last time you wrote ANYTHING substantial on paper ? For me it was hmmm….a year back…no actually a couple…or maybe more…when I was in college, although it was restricted to my never ending notebook graffiti during class and the pointless ramblings in my blue books (used in my internals!). Most times, my writing instrument used to be borrowed or bought at the last micro second before the exam. You know the old sprint to the college stationary mart, to get the 5-buck-Reynolds that would last all of 2 term papers. Let me tell you, I was not alone in this mad rush… :)

Looking back even further to my high school days, although I can't trust my squishy neurons with long term memory, I know that things weren’t too different. Against all odds, I remember middle school for one amongst a lot of things. Middle school was when we actually switched from the boring pencil to the mystical fountain pen. Back then, it was something that really excited me. I never understood how something as simple as a pen could have so many parts intricately designed and fitted together. I was fascinated to see all those expensive pens on store windows with their beautifully crafted nibs in various shapes and sizes. I was disallowed from using one in my primary school days for fear of spoiling my handwriting. How that could happen is beyond me. So, I waited like an obedient kid with all eagerness to get to 4th grade so I could start writing with my own fountain pen. Now it almost seems like a joke, when I think of the things that would satisfy me as a kid! :)

When I actually got into 4th grade , I freaked out . I started using my fountain pen to write in school, at home, on novels, on the walls, on newspapers, postits, charts, on my hand, on graphs , even on plastered limbs. I used to love the smell of fresh ink. Having to top up my fountain pen on a nightly basis for the many writing miles ahead, the sheer beauty in the design of the nib, the fact that you had to clean the pen every week or so….there was something classical and authoritative about the fountain pen.

By the time I was in my 7th grade I had collected fountain pens of all sizes and shapes. I had a collection of nearly 300 pens which included Parkers, Sheaffers and my prized possession – a Mont Blanc which was handcrafted and plated with gold! Its an irony that I have never used it, but that’s how it goes with any collector’s item. :)

Zooming into the present I can see that things have changed quite drastically! People hardly write nowadays. The advent of Notepad and MSWord has ensured that people prefer them anyday to the old fashioned pen and paper. No one has the time or energy to write on paper, leave alone use a fountain pen which has to be cared for like a 20 year old vintage car. I actually know people who can type faster than write and prefer to do so anyday…My collection of fountain pens is nearly completely donated to charity except for a prized few of course….

However I still know a few people, who stick like glue to the forgotten world of old fashioned writing. The long heritage of craftsmanship and innovation associated with a fountain pen will never cease to amaze me. Like all things fashionable, I am confident that very soon it will be back in vogue to write with a fountain pen. It will be cool to be seen with an expensive one in yr shirt pocket… until then my prized Mont Blanc shalt wait!

Note: The pic is taken from one of Leonardo da Vinci's original notes. It depicts his design for an airplane. This was written on parchment using a feather and plant dye for ink.

My Calling

I was eight when my dad first showed me his prized possession. It was something that he kept carefully in a leather bag in a small locker in his room. A vintage Minolta complete with external flash bulbs , an array of lenses and multiple filters. As he ran his fingers over the camera, I immediately knew that this was something very precious to him.I was intrigued to say the least.

To me , taking a picture meant pointing the camera at an object and clicking the samll button on top. I coudn't care less about focus or aperture.Why would you want to do so many complicated things to take a simple shot of an elephant in the zoo? Wasn't a camera meant to capture those special moments in life ,so that you could look at them with your grandchildren and laugh your head off? Wasn't it meant to help your straining neurons in remembering those rare occasions ... grandpa playing soccer with you, or when dad and you tried to bake a cake for mom and ended up making charcoal instead..or that emotional moment when your brother became a dad...or just the time when you saw fighter jets zoom past you in the sky for the first time? I have seen so many people fuss around with their huge expensive cameras on numerous trips with the intention of capturing that beautiful landscape or just a group snap on top of a mountain. So engrossed are they with the nitty gritties of taking the shot ,that they actually forget to notice the beauty of the very place they are in...the beautiful sunrise, the chirping of the birds, the long winding river and the roar of the waterfall at the edge,grandpa's timeless jokes from his graduation days...all this is lost in the mad scramble to set up the camera to capture something that is already etched in memory...for life.

I am now three times older than what I was the day i saw my dad's camera. I have seen a lot of my buddies transform into budding photographers lugging tripods and heavy cameras on our treks and outings. However, my perception of photography totally did a U - turn on one cold winter morning when I saw this exhibition on wildlife photography at the British Council. Displayed on the walls there, I saw the most beautiful pictures of tigers i have ever seen . This photographer , whose name i fail to recollect right now (as usual my grey cells go into hibernation when i need them most) had captured this magnificent animal in its natural habitat in all its glory. Every single detail on the tiger's body was captured so well on film. It was almost like capturing the entire gamut of emotions of this beautiful carnivore...and he had done a stupendous job of this. For the first time i almost looked a tiger eye to eye ...almost.

Inspired by the wonderful exhibition,I went back home promising myself that i would take good pics with my dad's camera and put up an exhibit too and win prizes at that. Months went by and several tens of reels later ,I realised there was more to photography than point - n - shoot. It started dawning on me that this was an art ,and you need to train and condition yourself in a certain way to be good at it. You need to have your creative juices oozing to get that super shot. Taking point n shoot pictures is one thing... protraying your feelings through photography is another. Just capturing an elephant in the zoo is one thing. Capturing an elephant with the bruises on its chain clad legs AND the tears rolling down his face is something else.That blurred picture of grandpa couldve been so much better if it had been taken with a little more care...capturing the wonderful emotions on his face as he goes into raptures talking about his college crushes...capturing the tricolor on the wings of the jet as it zooms by...Photography is an art and a science in itself. An expensive one at that too! :)

Having said all this , i realised that there are times when you need to stop and actually get off the bus and enjoy the scenery rather than stare into the view finder and fiddle with aperture, exposure and focus. There are separate photo shoots that i go on to do these things. Other occasions a simple point n shoot will suffice! There is a time and a place for everything.

To become an artist is not easy...It takes hours of practice and perseverence. Ask a figure skater and he/ she will tell you. Even though i tap keys to earn my bread, I know i will be a good photographer a few years from now. That dream of putting up my own exhibit is slowly but surely coming true.I know now that i have finally found my calling......

Floating in space

The sea was rough.The choppy waters smashed against the rockface that stood tall in defiance even after centuries of pounding. Sitting at the top, a couple of hundred feet off sea level, one coudnt help but feel the power of the mighty ocean. The air smelt salty and the horizon seemed to extend forever. The gentle rays of the sunset seemed to cast its magic spell on the horizon seemingly penning a myriad of colors on the already artistic sky. The breeze was gentle but steady. The magical feeling of the wind blowing in one's hair made me get lost in a reverie of my own.

My attention was suddenly drawn towards a sharp cry in the air. Looking above i saw a seagull soaring in all its glory. There was something about this bird that caught my attention. This was a remarkably young bird, probably a few months old. But its demeanor and flight belied its age. Stanley as i would like to call him had feathers which were pristine white almost giving him a holy aura. The flapping of its wings was graceful and rhythmic. Stanley seemed to own the sky even though he was a novice in flying. Stanley seemed to fly for the joy of flying unlike most birds. He would fly up to dizzying heights and then glide down gracefully in one single motion. This went on for quite some time until his flight looked like a ballerina in top form. With each passing loop he swooped faster and faster.Fear definetly was not known to him. His wings were still frail and under developed. But this didnt deter him. All that mattered was that there was a sun in the sky and a cool draft in the air. He took to the sky like a duck to water. Soaring amidst the clouds and sometimes close to the water surface to hunt for food, he was the epitome of grace.

Engrossed in this graceful display ,i lost all track of time and space. I was shaken out of my reverie by the sudden beep of my cell phone bringing me back to the rude and lack-lustre modern world.Driving back home along the sea-coast, I couldnt help but compare Stanley's young life to mine. I was probably in the same stage in my life as Stanley. Having just got onto my own feet , I was finding my way through the various hurdles in life. But i found one startling difference. Unlike Stanley, I wasnt enjoying the journey. For me the journey is just a means to the destination which itself is very abstract. In the process, I realised I was just squandering away all this precious time when there is so much to experience and enjoy. Stanley's unending enthusiasm and quest for the impossible gave me new hope. It made me understand the importance of trying to push the extremes of one's ability which in most cases is nothing but a mirage of the mind. I realised that it is the journey that matters in most cases and not the destination.This little bird left an indelible mark on me leaving me a changed person for life...

Character Assassination

Well this blog intends to do exactly what the name suggests...which is usually what happens when i go about describing people. So lets get this straight. The charachters in this blog bear no resemblance to any fictitious characters of the past /present. They are all living people with whom i interact on a day to day basis and any "accidental" character assassination is purely what i just said - accidental. I am a software developer and my team has a lot of colorful characters whom i shall try and describe here.

Coming from the top, there is King Arthur , the ruler of North West District. THE biggest, wittiest , smartest and shrewdest of 'em all, he is the kind of warrior whom any battle scarred soldier would like to have on his side. With the ability to convince, he takes negotiations to a new level. Arthur has a strong military background, having undergone rigorous training in multiple disciplines of martial art in his formative years. He has been awarded the golden arrow 7 times in a row for coming up with innovative war strategies and ideas which he can truly call his own. A true leader in his own right, King Arthur is now on his journey to conquer the world.

With King Arthur exploring beyond his territorial waters , the search for his successor was truly and madly on. There were a few close contenders. The Emperor even tried coaxing King Louis N VI of South District to take over the reigns of the well oiled machine that Arthur had left behind. But the responsibility ultimately fell on the young Earl of Mas County, Nirkhail Khan. Young, enthusiastic and a keen learner, Nirkhail is set to step into the huge shoes of the now legendary Arthur. Being an able manager of men , Nirkhail is fine tuning his skills and getting himself ready for the blood bath ahead. Whether he will be as successful as his predecessor, we need to wait and watch.

Another important member of the North West District Army is Commander-in-chief Alwyn Macao. Named after the mythological ship that conquered the pelagic depths of the ocean floor, Alwyn is a true leader of his troops. Being an expert in close combat and a keen strategist with an eye for the minutest of detail, he is one of the sharpest soldiers for his age. Never shy to dirty his hands with his comrades, Alwyn can sometimes be spotted having a ball with the rookie soldiers over campfire and music.

Moving over to the chiefs of the various disciplines of the war machine, we have Admiral Sheila Airon and General Aamir Jahan , Air Marshal Rodney Bailey and the now legendary strategist Polgar Sakhs. Admiral Sheila , the first lady to take over the reigns of the elite warships has learnt her ropes as well as any respectable Navy commander worth his stars. She brings a sense of calm to the war machine. Just being around her you realise that she is more than capable of single handedly steering her warships home amidst gale force winds.

General Aamir Jhan is one those few rare people you would meet once in a life time. Being one of the sharpest shooters in the army , he commands the respect of his army men by his sheer presence alone. Never one to give up in a discussion , he is normally the chosen ambassador in all territorial negotiations. His war strategies are the stuff legends are made of . With the ability to think faster than the speed of light, he normally leaves his opposition gasping for breath at the end of a duel.

We then have Air Marshal Rodney Bailey. A walking talking genius, gangster, prankster , you name it and he wouldve done it. A passout of the Birla school of War-Technique , he is someone who can fight a battle on the ground , air or water with unmatched skill.

And then there is Polgar Sakhs, the strategist. The legendary nature of her ideas would make Einstein look like a dimwit. With a sharp mind, she will always be seen making her escape from a fiery duel through sleight of mind alone. One of the fittest airmen around, her craving for sweet music is only overshadowed by her now infamous appetite. She is now a wingman of the Air Force and intends to do reconnaissance as long as there is a current in the air, music on the radio and food across the border.

Moving on to the rookies we having Arthur C II , one of the most multi-talented dimwits you can ever see. This guy can never do anything completely other than get beaten up by his comrades. When it comes to war , it's a totally different ball game....Then there is Wineat Gomes the most gullible but shrewd warrior in the ranks. How he gets this lethal combination, only the heavens know. Last but not the least we have the infamous Chotta Sarkar . A keen mind with a even keener appetite. He is the life of the army. Never a dull moment with him and Wineat on board. But talk of battle and Chotta will go into a huddle trying to scheme up clever strategies to evade the ominous enemy. Movement is his biggest foe.

I have intentionally left out a couple of top secret members. They are the workhorses of the North West district and our secret weapons as well. Will this multi talented war machine continue to fire its big guns when the sun goes down? Will the young turks come to the party when the chips are down? Only time will tell......