Musings

Its been so long since I have written anything.  I have tried everything- blank stares at the wall, typing a few random words in the laptop to see if it keeps me going, cooking innovative food so I might be inspired enough to swing a story around it while writing the recipe, the travels, the rains and I come up with naught everytime. I can't be having a writers block for so long, can I ?

And then it all began. The tipper-tapper sound of the rain falling on the roof of the house. The splattering sound it makes when it hits the floor. The birds chirping in the distance. The rain drops on the window panes. And mixed with it all I can hear the distant sound of someone breathing. An even breathing like someone is asleep. I get out of the bed and look out the window.

A cool air hits my face, I can feel raindrops on my face. And then I look back at the bed hungrily, calling out to me. Still asleep, your mouth open, but its afternoon here and I have work to do.

Happy Sleeping, all of you who is now beautifully engulfed by the warmth of the night. What would I give to turn the clock right now! 

Some lost music,
Some Unwritten pieces of Poetry,
Of music unheard,
Of songs sans Melody

Of love, smiles and gifts..
...of Moments yet to come !!

The Scarlet Woman !!

My hair done up, my face flawlessly made

Lips as bright as a cherry red.

Smoky eyes, and the long slit dress

Chanel no. 5,  and how I swayed.

As the music played,

And I gyrated,

Every man was left jaded

The bubbly flowed,

My lips it caressed,

I saw your eyes follow me in-stead.

Scarlet woman they knew me as,

But for you I am the fair-maiden

Or  so I thought, before I saw

The look in your eyes now dissuaded.

You judged, you strayed

My mind now obeyed,

Why the title they bestowed,

“Scarlet Woman”- has now stayed.

Salt !!

The taste of the saltwater was still raw in his mouth. His nose still stung and he had a headache. He must have swallowed a sea of saltwater. He closed his eyes, and then the picture came back to him again. He felt the strong waves hugging him tight and pulling him down. His hands were flapping and he was trying to push himself out. Always a strong swimmer, the sea was his sanctuary and he like a fish was used to all it trials and tribulations.

The smell of the saltwater, the humid air, the fish- they have always had a calming effect on him. He had strong legs and hands and a muscular but lean torso. Coming out of the water, with the sun shining in the background and the water droplets shimmering on his shoulder like diamonds he looked like a Greek God. He gave his head a shake, to shake off the salt from his face and hair. His golden locks now forming soft curls and falling over his forehead. He looked at a kid playing at a distance and smiled at him. The kid smiled back. He picked up his towel and swung it over his shoulder and started a light sprint towards his shack.He heard bullet shots in the distance, or were they fire crackers.He didn't look back. He was angry. There was pollution everywhere nowadays and even the sanctity of this small beach town was slowly getting adulterated with the number of tourists that it garnered. Tourism was good for the livelihood of the people but it also meant an end to the routine and simple things that was so endearing about this town. 

It was late evening and he switched on the radio. The alert again. High Tide !! And then he remembered the kid. The kid was going towards the sea ready to jump in with all surfing gear. He had seen the kid in the neighborhood quite a few times over the last few weeks- innocent, independent  and aloof most times, the kid reminded him of himself about a decade back. The same anger, the same aura, the same desire to prove !! He heard some whispers close-by, some random music, almost like he was playing a part in a movie and he equated himself with the hero. He tried to shut-off his mind to the foreign sounds and concentrate.

He lugged his swimming suit and started sprinting towards the sea where most professional surfers take to tame the sea. He saw the figure in the distance entering the sea. He screamed out, but he didn't know the kids name. He cursed himself and increased his speed. He had spent quite some hours in the water just sometime back and his legs were giving away, but he kept on. He saw the figure enter deeper into the sea, and then he seemed to have caught up with him, only to have lost him again. He kept going deeper and screaming out to the boy. But the kid was already going under. And then he saw a mighty wave come towards him ready to swallow him too.

He felt the water pressure all around him. His heart started aching and he swallowed a lot of the water, the wave pulled him down. He closed his eyes and nose, but the wave was strong and managed to enter him. He could feel it stinging his brain now. And he was sure he would die. He tried hard and managed to kick one of his legs hard. It hit something like a wooden structure and then he felt a numbing pain sear through his legs and move up towards his body. He tried to mumble something, his legs still felt heavy but the pressure of water was gone. He tried moving his hands and they hit some something like the back of a sofa. It was dark and there was commotion all around, or so it seemed. The screen ahead of him flashed "Intermission- Grab your Drink and Snacks".

Been There, Done That and Lived to Tell the Tale

"Didn't I tell you long back to buy a tripod", the voice inside my head accused. I did a "Guilty!! But I can't change it now, Can I?" This was in response to my wailing over not having a tripod while driving towards Atlantis and Palm Jumeirah. Nights in Dubai is really unbelievable. You are left wondering how good an architect these guys must be to have constructed an island, to have made a tunnel under the sea, and to have made a hotel that looks like a huge gate from a distance. I traveled through all of these at night and could not capture any of these in my camera for lack of a tripod.. phew  !!

So it was my last night in Dubai and the seniors had left for London, other colleagues had plans of their own and me and two other colleagues-- Su-perky and pretty but dependent and Naveen-focused,supportive,rational and the one you could depend on--who have by now become friends decided we would go down and spend some time in the dance bar before deciding where to go. I wanted to do Atlantis again, that was before I realized that it is some 45 kms away from our hotel. Oh!! the hotel we stayed at belongs to a South Indian Don and had a dance bar called Bollywood Cafe and every night after we return back from office, followed by dinners and drives we would go to the dance bar and have fun looking at girls gyrating to songs like "chat pe soya tha behnoi". Seriously, there have been instances I wanted to be a guy then.

So we went to Bollywood Cafe, and we promised that we would sit down for just two performances but the music was good and it was fun so we ended up being there almost till 2:45 AM. Then we went out and I came up with the idea that we should go to Creek or Deira (that is where rich Arabs park their little private Yachts). I thought photos there would come out good, and before I forget I finally managed to purchase a travel tripod earlier that evening. I could not wait to test it.

We took a taxi and like a pro I said " Creek". We reached there in less than five minutes and started clicking. I tried all angles, all exposures but to my woe, I did not get even a single decent picture. I was pissed with myself. It was hot and humid and I had come out in the middle of the night to capture Rich Arabs tiny toys and I could not get it right. Just then Su said, "Girl, we should get moving. Lets walk", I agreed and we started walking. Naveen was walking a few steps behind. We did come some 200-300 metres from the Creek when I saw a beautiful Mosque in the background. The lighting was just perfect. It was on the other side of the road and like a temptress calling out to a wanton, it caught my eye. I took out my tripod, fixed my camera and was clicking away to glory. It was pleasure and the result was perfection.

Just then Naveen saw a police car in the distance. He warned me, but I had long exposure on and could not touch the cam. By the time I was done, police arrived. They got out of the car and took one hard long look at the three of us. Me and Su, both were in knee length dresses. Then one of them spoke,"What are you doing in the middle of the night?" I said,"We are tourists, going back tomorrow, we are just taking pics." The police said, " Here, not allowed, this is VIP area, this is Indian Consulate, the other one is Libyan Consulate. Show me ID." Me like a heroine took out my Indian Passport. He did a double take. I think he thought I am a terrorist. He said "Come to Police Station, We do a check and give a warning".  And then the scary looking man opened the back seat of the police vehicle and the three of us hopped in. I was a little scared I think, not because I had done anything wrong but because all three of us had a few shots of tequila at the Dance Bar. 

"Su, in my own country even I have never entered a police station. Get a grip Girl," I said. By then I think she was almost on the verge of breaking down. And then like a heroine I added for extra effect,"Anyway it is my passport that these guys here have." By then the first reaction of the cold, unfeeling building had settled in and I was getting my composure back.The station looked like an alien place, there wasn't a single woman there, the whole place was white-washed, and alien looking people with alien sounding language was talking among themselves.They took away my camera and I saw it change hands a number of times. The camera is almost my lifeline and I was scared they would put it in a polythene packet like Indian police and stow it away like evidence. My heart was almost breaking and then I heard Su say, "Ask them to keep the camera and let us go for Gods sake", I was about to snap when Naveen intervened and said,"Dont worry nothing will happen. The camera is our savior. It has all photographs of our event as well as our trip and masti. That should serve as a proof of our innocence." Thanks Naveen !!

The police there were really nice. I mean they kept on smiling all the while. They didn't question unnecessarily and didn't harass any of us. Just then a man in Kandura, the Arabic Robe, came in checked the camera and then came to me. He asked me to delete all the beautiful pics. And then he looked at the police and said something in Arabic and then said Khallas. During my week long stay I realized Khallas means "The End". He then handed me the camera and pointed me towards a room. We went there after ten minutes. The man there asked me questions and then asked me my passport number. I gave them all details, they wrote something in Urdu/Arabic and handed me the paper to sign in, saying it says you will not photograph at night in VIP area. I nodded and signed. He said "Khallas, go", I said "My Passport". They had misplaced my passport. They could not find it. It was almost 5 AM then. And I had a flight back home at 10:10PM. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

Then Naveen whispered in my ear,"Shaayad yeh log tere passport ko khufiya taareeke se kuch kar rahein hain." My eyes went big and I said, "Perhaps". We sat for some half an hour more and then suddenly the man in Kandora came back again, he took out my passport, smiled at me and said,"Sorry, I am busy, sorry sorry!! I come back for you." Relief ran through me. I took my passport and then everyone there smiled. The chief gave a thumbs up. I asked "Now". He said,"Khallas, now go and sleep". Like an idiot I looked at the man in kandora and asked, "Can you drop us at the Hotel",.He looked at me and said,"Sorry!! I am busy, I come back for you. Take Taxi!!"

We ran out of the police station, we ran out of the lane and then all three of us burst out laughing.

It was a trip of a lifetime. I went back to my MBA days when sleeping was a luxury. I hardly slept for 3-4 hours everyday the whole of 8 days. I had deactivated my facebook account for the period of my stay there. I went to a dance bar almost every night. And I ate so much I am now scared of finding out how much I weigh. And yes, I even spent a few hours in a police station. I never realized photography would land me in a Police Station.

Moral: 1. No wearing short dresses in Gulf country at night.

           2. Always find out if photography is allowed in the Area, in whatever country you are in. 

The Door !!

The Door !!

Sometimes unlocking an opportunity,

Sometimes closing in on your dreams, 

At times protecting you,

At others letting you loose,

Sometimes fascinating, sometimes scary

But always standing tall....

As a gate to enter another world-

The Door

Melange-of travel and religious cities !!

They say God is the ultimate creator. And everytime I create something beautiful I equate myself with him. No wonder then that when I started writing this particular piece my mind went back to two very religious cities I had visited – one at the Northern part of the country and the other at the Southern part. India never fails to amaze me. There is diversity everywhere, but the very essence of India is always present.

I was still a student and the neck-breaking schedule of an aspiring MBA added with the fact that I was a part of the placement team made sure that I was the quintessential MBA student. I had no time for myself, no weekends, no holidays and thoughts were always centered around how we would get companies to campus, which industry expert to invite as Guest speaker, and yet manage a decent grade on my certificate to prove that I was an all-rounder.  Amidst all this I was looking forward to one week of off from this crazy madness during the Dussehera holidays and bingo!! All my plans fell apart when the Head of Placement Cell invited us to our campus in Bangalore for an intensive training on corporate etiquettes and strategy session. I had made so many plans for those few days with my then boyfriend and now soon-to-be husband Babu that it just broke my heart. And then I did something which I would not have done in any other circumstances. I lied!!  I planned and plotted (before that of course I had to pacify a very angry Babu, who was equally excited about spending some quality time with me) , took Ma into confidence (and of course lied to her too) and told her that I am visiting Haridwar with friends,but she was to tell the CEO of our institute that I am coming home etc etc if the need arises. After all this drama we left for Haridwar. When checking for some weekend gateways me and the boy could come up with Haridwar because that was the only place that took less than five hours from Delhi. Every other place was faraway. The only reason we decided on a religious destination for our first trip alone someplace was that it was about five hours and could fit into the busy schedule of an MBA, bleh!!

We did not have much expectation from the city itself but we were in for a pleasant surprise. We reached quite late in the night and booked ourselves into a hotel. The night was slightly chilly and we could hear the distant chimes of the temple bells and the splash of the beautiful Ganga flowing in the background. There was the smell of oil/ghee and diyas and the market was filled with things symbolizing Hinduism including rudraksh, oil, red cloth, trishul et al. Me and the boy were a little disappointed to realize that we would not get non-veg food in Haridwar during the stay. But the simple meal of veg food was so nice that we forgot the minor hitch. The next morning we woke up to chants of mantras and temple bells. We contemplated for sometime whether we would visit the temples for darshan, what with both of us not being too religious but then we decided what the hell, we are here so lets do it. We walked towards the temple area, both of us immersed our feet in the cold water and it was freezing. It felt beautiful. I was feeling very out of place in a jeans and tee shirt. The whole place had the feeling of an age-old charm. It looked like I had arrived at an age much before I was born. The language was polished and everyone treated the other with respect. Everyone bowed down to elders, the young were helping the old climb the stairs, the adults were carrying the children. The girls had their heads covered and the boys were looking at girls with a shy look. The girls knew how to blush. There were oranges and red all over, the color of vermillion and the marigolds were standing out. We took a boat ride over the Ganges and the fresh autumn air caressed my face. I felt on top of the world, it was a holiday beyond expectation. I had the love of my life beside me in one of the most colorful place, uninhibited by pollution. It truly was a super holiday. Once I got back to my institute and started packing for my trip to Bangalore, though I was still fuming about not getting to spend my holidays like the other guys I was happy I had made some awesome memories just before.

Contrast this with my trip to Hampi, with a few of my close friends some 2-3 months back. While in my previous trip I had the company of my love, this trip too had the new love of my life accompanying me. In fact I guess that was what finally made up my mind about the trip, with a little push from Babu of course. They say Hampi is a photographers dream and one really has to be there to believe it. Unlike Haridwar, Hampi had a very progressive outlook. The influx of foreign visitors could be the reason, but this place had a very Goa feel about it. The place was scattered with ruins in every corner and I just wanted to capture every stone, every ruin in my camera and freeze it for eternity.

It was the Diwali weekend and I was planning a trip to Hyderabad to see one of my closest friends since the last few years. And by the time I had made up my mind all bus and train tickets were sold. I was frustrated and angry and super unhappy that Aimee would spend the Diwali alone. Along the same time, it being a long weekend friends were planning a trip to the picturesque town of Hampi and I kept on telling them that I would not come along, I would work. Babu scolded me for behaving like a spoilt kid, Arup tried selling the photography aspect and Ravi tried “it wont be fun without you” senti. But finally I did give in to the temptation and am happy I did it. The place surprised me from the word go. As soon as we entered the town, to my horror I discovered that my cell phone signal was off. Cell phones stop working in that town, and as soon as we reached the Guest House we had booked I dumped my stuff into the room and ran like crazy to call my Mom and Babu and assure them that I was safe and there is no network access. It was beautiful, we reached quite late to do any sightseeing, but we walked out for dinner. The view from outside our guest house itself was mesmerizing with temples and ruins scattered on all sides. This city also served only veg food with a dash of egg thrown in, but you could choose among a multitude of cuisines including Israeli, Continental etc. The food was scrumptious and the rooftop restaurant just beside the river a fresh change from the loud city restaurants. We chatted and ate and lazed. The place also had a book-shelf on one side, it had started pouring by then. The fresh smell of rain and the water droplets sitting on the light bulbs created a kaleidoscope of beauty and color. By the time we went back to the guest house it was quite late and me and Arup had already planned to go out for an early morning photo shoot. I remember the whole weekend I just kept taking in the beautiful view of the city. I hardly slept for more than three hours each,  the two nights I was there. The architecture, the detailing, the beautiful hills strewn with stones, the carvings and the place itself adds up to the mystical aura of Hampi. You are left wondering about the kind of craftsmanship that existed in those times, you are left wondering why holidays end. And then you are just happy that it sure means another holiday is on its way soon. 

When I started writing this piece I thought it would talk about how distinct the two towns are. Inspite of being religious cities both has a different identity, both has a different aura but both makes you feel closer to the values that makes you an Indian.  On this note I will end this one here and talk about photography and Hampi in my next entry.