GOLDEN CRACKER

Sep 2003. Keylang. The golden mountain. I saw Buddha there. Blinked my eyes once and it changed to Led Zep jammin up Misty Mountain Hop. Blinked again, God, life, memories, and then a desire to eat this golden biscuit.

Feathers On The Road

Sep 2003. Jispa. After Keylang. Want to run right now. Just thought of going and buying a bike and a make this trip again, forward...but this is the crazy road, a couple of kms back it gives you the scare of your life and the moment you reach this point, it just starts to calm you down. With Bagha flowing on the side and dead majestic rocky mountains as the backdrop....a bike. I need a bike right away.

EAST OF THE SUN. WEST OF THE MOON.

Pushkar. Sitting on the lakeside, with the wind quietly humming a melody, and your senses as fresh as a new born baby, the moonlight bathes every little thing to such a detail, that if it was not for this shot, we all will miss out on what moonlight can do, what it can give birth to...a canvas of Gods. The place cleanses your mind...tells you to return...you know its tough to write about what one feels out there...trust me. I am mortal. Its beyond me. But I get a sense that somewhere this has gently seeped into me through my pores and is growing again...I know it will call us there once again.

PEACE WATERS

Pushkar. One of the happiest journeys of my life. Trust me I may not able to get this again. But nevertheless. This is Pushkar lake in the night. 8.45 pm to be precise. Euphoria. Peace. Love. Oneness. The non-existence of anything remotely negative. The power. Union. Sweet. Lazy. Tranquil moments dropping on my mind like honey dew. The valley is like a womb. You want to live there forever. Beautiful..my god...bliss...here is where I was the most peaceful. I was a song. Here I was not for myself. Man this is the sweetest memory. You wont believe me a bit if i say what it meant to me. I may never say it again. Maybe never again. But one thing is for sure. If I could have, I would have filled myself with everything that was there. Well I almost did...

TRUCKS OF INDIA

Chennai. A busy road. Could not help but take this one. The sheer thought of art on an oil tanker was enough to press the button. The angry demon, thick black lines, asking you to stay away. And my cabbie obliged. Dont miss the fish.

DEEP ORANGE

Yamuna Barrage. Eastern Bank. The sun sets over the silent waters. You know you really dont care about anything once the sight of the setting orange ball strikes you. Trust me its just the wind that moves alongwith water. Well for the sun, it never seems to settle down.

Old Man By The Sea

Chennai. If I knock will the God come out and open the iron gate? I feel like renting this place, put it on a boat, make it sail to a lonely island. Then put a lounging chair in front of it and just keep on looking towards the sky like this. Steadfast gaze. Not once blinking my eyes. Grow old and when I am about to die, knock on the gate and walk inside.

On The Eastern Express Highway

Mahabalipuram. Driving back to Chennai with our windows rolled down. Setting sun and the salty breeze. On our left side was this lake near a salt field. Satya said let's shoot here with the catamarans. A nod from me. He starts on his assignment.
I took out my camera and moved towards the lake. Probably the clouds called me. And the sheen on the water sang the wild song of longing. The catamarans standing a silent silhoutted testimony of the elements that gather around every sunset to do the divine dance.

Amer Fort. I looked up. Glasswork on the roof in one of the palaces. Winter Palace to be precise. Just a play of silver and gold, in sheer symmetrical beauty. How it makes me wish that I too would have been like this. I would have gladly put myself on the wall, to become a part of it. The chaotic symmetry of silver and gold, of water and sun. Though the most amazing part was that I could not see myself in those million mirrors.

Amer Fort. Du spotted this raas lila. The sun was behind krishna and radha, and the light passed through them to get into my lens. I loved it at first instance. Anti Gravity Love. On one of the walls. Its night all around yet the colours of their love vibrate brilliantly.

The Pilgrim Of The Mountains

Manali. The Beas flows down from Rohtang Pass, gurgling its way through the rocks. The mountains in Solang give it the valley to flow in. It shapes up, splashing around its ice cold water on the stones. A nature's baby, a little eager to grow up fast. The good thing is that the water tastes of the virgin snow on the mountain.

Oh My God

Another day, created from the stems of light blue boiling liquid, cold as the ice. Touch of saffron. The wind dances with fire.