Photography, Reflections

The Colors of Life

The tireless weekday warriors will attest to the fact that the weekend is truly a treasured event. This event becomes even more treasured if its spent with people that you meet after a long time. People, relatives, acquaintances, places, objects, sights, sounds all physical and non physical entities that define who we are. Its funny when you think about it. Our existence is always reflective of some other factor. We are successful compared to someone else. We think of ourselves as failures based on the what the world defines success. Similarly every emotion: loneliness, happiness, richness and poverty are all subjective.

This past weekend was spent in the company of some relatives at McHenry Park. Its a little park juxtaposed to the Dam in the state of Illinois. It was an overcast spring day. The sky threatened to rain on our parade, but ultimately didn’t. What resulted was the perfect balance. Temperature in the 70s, and a soft wind soaked in the fragrance of rain. I see the sights around me, rocks, the setting sun, and children playing with a soccer ball. There is something about sports that brings out the best and the worst in us. We become warriors, fighters and almost animals in our relentless drive to win. But as much as it seems like a battle, sports function more as a unifier of sorts. People seem to be enjoying themselves here.

 I watch the scene from a distance, like a faceless stranger watching events on a broken television. I stand behind an invisible wall, the boundaries of which are undefined but very existent. I stay at a distance, not because I do not wish to partake in the ceremonies, but more because watching the scene is more enjoyable than making the scene. I just stand and click pictures and unlike the players, who will probably not remember this day, I will definitely stash away these threads of memories into the warm corners of my mind.  The severed corpse of a tree next to the virulent bodies of its family, the spring grass, the fallen leaves of winter, the ripples of the stagnant water and brilliant hues of the setting sun, I watch these images and the involuntary flickers of a smile gestate on the corner of my lips and I continue gazing at the magnificent colors of life.

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Photography, Reflections

The Forgotten Journey

I came across a couple of pictures that I had taken ages ago. These are pictures from my trip to San Fransisco in 2008. In essence these four pictures define that trip for me. Many hours were spent drinking a lazy cappuccino in cafes in the financial district. There were the odd touristic indulgences (A trip to Alcatraz) and some unnecessary shopping (Chinatown). Overall, the perfect vacation!

I love travelling, and not having done that in a while makes me yearn to be in a new city, wandering down unfamiliar streets, discovering a place, unknown to me, but familiar to the nameless crowd that passes me by.

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Photography, Reflections

The Changing Winds

The world is moving, the clocks are turning, the weather is changing and all we can do is marvel.
My days are packed with work and I do not get enough time to look at the beauty presented all around, but as I was driving back after yet another beautiful day, I paused involuntarily at a traffic light and glanced at the diaspora around.
The grass is changing color, the flock of birds have returned, Yet another tree reminds me of dancing ballerinas, and the bluish grey sky sobs heavy and wet tears…Spring is here.
And as I sip into a relaxing mug of warm organic white tea, time and life in general starts moving in flash forward. Like pictures on the wallpaper of life, zooming by regardless of whether we see them or we don’t. The winds are indeed changing.

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Photography, Reflections

The Sights of Life

We are visual creatures. Inaminate beings brought to life by the sights of the world.

Animate beings who then form memories based on the inprints left on our minds.

These imprints are visual and textural, based on what we see, and what we feel, Colors, patterns and textures. These define how we see the world.

Colors dance out and take other worldly forms. Trees seem to dance like ballerinas. The discarded feather of a peacock strikes us in visual splendor and we realize that visual sights are everywhere. All we have to do is see.

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Photography, Reflections, Uncategorized

Dissimilar Similarity

Redundancy is a defining factor of our personality. We all thrive in the familiarity of the familiar. We build routines, we stick to them. We build routines, to stick to routines. We are creatures of routine, from the moment we were born, we learn by replicating all that we see.

 If you have read any of my previous posts, you would know that I try to present a metaphor for every picture that I take. Being a frequent traveller, my nights are spent somberly gazing at the roof of some nondescript motel in the Midwestern region of the US. I gaze at the roof, which doesn’t really catch my fancy.

My attention is then arrested by the lamps. Now, I know that you are probably thinking…not another set of lamp pictures… well, that’s exactly what you are going to get. These are different from the ones that I have posted before, similar in the angles that the picture was shot, but different in the mood and the light that it projects, which goes to show, that in the cloaking blandness of mass market motel consumerism, there shines a tiny “light” of uniqueness.

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Photography, Reflections, Uncategorized

Frozen Thoughts

We are forever travellers. Each moment of each day is spent journeying from one end of life to the other. This journey could be joyous, or could be arduous, it could be enlightening or it could be soul crushing.

 One thing is certain, that through all the highs and lows, there are scattered memories strewn along the never ending path of life. These are the sights and sounds that we see.

 A meal at a restaurant with loved ones, the sun setting over a puddle of water, a tree on a nameless path in the middle of the highway, or a vacant building in the middle of the night, each image stays with me, like pictures on the stereoscopes from a forgotten childhood. Pictures that represent a memory, an event, a though, which now lies frozen in the infinite scroll of the internet.

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