Oh Kolkatta !

Braja Sorenson, my blogger friend, lives in the village of Mayapur , in West Bengal. Besides, prayers, chants, temple bells, and writing another blog, and publishing a book, she is fond of cows, calves, walking through fields, photography, and the river Ganga.

This is a recent posting on her photo blog , Braja's India .

While us ordinary types, travel in rickety taxis through potholes , she sails in golden splendour , at dawn, being rowed across the Ganga, on her way to catch a train to Kolkatta


(all photographs by Braja Sorenson)

Ganga Devi's morning
makeup routine,
sprinkling the gold
watched avidly
by the Sun
from behind the mists.

Way
on one bank,
another braid
of flaxen gold,
and she leans back
in the wood
as old as the river,
while
being rowed across.

She steps off,
looks back,
as the Sun
nudges a rippling Ganga,
asking
"Where's she off to?"....

The wind
shakes the mist,
snaking through the green,
takes a guess,
exclaims,
"Oh ? Kolkatta ? ".....

Smooth Gliders and Politicians

Blogger friend Magiceye, posted this in his latest post related to Camera Critters.

A photo capture of a smooth glide in the water , from the Mahim Nature Park in Mumbai.

It is so relevant that this Nature Park is situated in the most densely populated area of Mumbai, close to what is often called Asia's biggest slum. It is also relevant that vast human populations sometimes become potential vote banks.

Which actually reminded me of snakes of another type .......


(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)


Some dig in,
remaining upright,
despite the flow;

Some
practical types,
pick and choose
where to fall,
and
where to flow,
sometimes,
with friends,
sometimes,
remaining
smartly inert;

And some,
with chequered lives,
and a longish reach,
glide smoothly
through it all,
sinusoidal moves,
a push here,
a drag there,
a tail lash
at obstacles,
but with
a face above
water
at all times.

We call them politicians.

The Houbara fashion week

The houbara bustard is a rare shy bird adapted to arid conditions with little vegetation and found in stony and sandy desert and semi-desert regions. Typically North Africa , Egypt , Canary islands etc.

The species has a fascinating flamboyant courtship display described as a ‘Turkey riding a bicycle’! As the male struts around in full display, white feathers on the head and around the throat emphasize the magnificence of his hidden plumage. The entire exercise is conducted to impress the female of the species.

This is an adult male houbara bustard among wildflowers in the Canary Islands. Picture posted by blogger friend Sangeeta Khanna.....

Just got me wondering .......:-)




Practicing
for the
North African Houbara Fashion Week;

He flares his
brilliant white plumage
to flash it around,
doing the
ramp walk,
traipsing
just so,
through the wild flowers.



Sights her
from the side
of his eyes,
pirouettes around
to see her eyeing
and winking
at the next chap,
with a
bushier
Folies Bergere plumage.

What
do the Lady Hubaras
think they are ?
Clapping, tweeting,
and winking at us?

Canary Island Slutwalk anyone ?

श्रावण मासी..... Ode to the Mumbai Roads (with apologies to Balkavi)

There is a very well known Marathi poem , related to the magic of the monsoon, which is at its peak , in the Indian calendar month of Shravan. (roughly around August). The poet is the late Tryambak Bapuji Thomre Aka Balkavi , and almost all of us learned this poem in school.

Regrettably, the Monsoon (or the month of Shravan) brings some other things to mind, in Mumbai. The newspapers have been full of it, I've blogged about it, people have got injured travelling on it: Yes, the potholes on Mumbai's roads.


This is a parody of the late Balkavi's poem, with apologies to the memory of the great poet.

An English translation might work, but the beauty of the cadence, rhythm, and color of the original Marathi poetry will be lost. Hence , not attempted.

श्रावण मासी , दुक्ख मानसी , खड्डे खड्डे चोहिकडे ,
क्षणात येई भुरभुर माती , क्षणात गाडी उलटी पड़े
वरती बघता गोफ धूराचा बस च्या मागून विणलासे,
चिक्क्हल तोरण काय बांधले सभोवताली कुणी भासे,
झालीच टक्कर म्हाशीशी , जबड़ा -अहाहा तो उघडे
घाणीत घसरुनी पाय मोडला , काय करू हां प्रश्न पडे
उठता वरती गर्दी जमली ,अनंत रिकामे बघे पहा
गमबूट घालून पोलीस आले , शिट्टी वाजवत , अहा !
नाव काय , पत्ता , लायसंस दाखवा, व ते पट्टा सावरती
आपण आता घरी कस जावे , हे विचार मनात बागडती
रिकक्षा ही चलते भुवनी , तो चालक गाणी गात फिरे
"बसा " म्हणोनी , मीटर पाडत, रेडिओ वाजे एकसुरे...
सर्वत्र डाम्बर चिकट पडोनी , वास एव्ह्डा दरवळला
गाडी उचालणारी गाडी बघुनी रोष मनीचा मावळला...
सुंदर पावतिपुस्तक घेऊनि हाती, पुलीस हात धरे पुढती ,
सुन्दर अक्षर , सुन्दर अकडा , चुपचाप पुस्तकी ते खुडती
घर दर्शना निघती लोक , काळजी मावे ना हृदयात
वदनी त्यांच्या वाचून घ्यावे श्रावण महिन्याचे गीत......

Kya yeh.........?

If there was a prize for being an inveterate rule breaker or defier, there would be a huge competition for that prize in our country. Illiterate folks cannot read, but probably have more sense; the literate experts specialize in ignoring rules. Everywhere. Traffic, public programs, throwing trash, etc. And this blatant attitude ha given rise to a shameless question often asked by shameless defiers of rules ; ie "Kya yeh aapke bap ka hai " (~does this belong to your father ?).....

Blogger friend Deepak Amembal Magiceye, has posted a series of photographs of the Mookambika Temple in Kollur , Karnataka, which he visited. One such picture of human defiance ......



Sometimes,
the earth stops short
of shaking
and convulsing
in anger....

The hills are ours,
so dig
and destroy
and sell the soil;
The notice about Mining?
"Kya ye aapke baap ka hill hai ?"

The rivers are ours,
So bathe, wash,
and flush with effluents ;
The notice about sewage?
"Kya ye aapka baap ka river hai ?"

This land , these temples,
these Gods, are ours ,
So we will build where we like,
Leave footwear where we like,
Throw paper where we like;
The notice about footwear ?"

Before you ask,
"Kya ye aap ke baap ka temple hai?"
Ji Haan...
This is the temple
of the
Father of the Earth;

Abuse,
and a day will come,
when
there will be no notice,
because
there will simply be
no feet...
and
no footwear.....

"Looking" to start something.....

Blogger friend, Lakshmi Sharath, a well known media consultant, photographer, travel writer and columnist for several newspapers and magazines, is an avid birder as well. She ventured one evening, into the Thattekadu jungles near Kochi, which lies in Kerala, India's southern most state, for a date with the bird population there.

Among others, to look for Sri lankan frogmouths, a set of birds, that manage to camouflage themselves so well, that they sometimes look like the branches themselves. Do read about her wonderful birding trip, at Thattekadu, India : My date with the birds.

One gets a bit intimidated by the no-nonsense look of these birds, and it just reminded me of someone else........


(photograph by Lakshmi Sharath)


They sit,
seamlessly blending
with the world around them.

Wordlessly commenting
staring
at the mess
we have become....

Abusing the
rules of the jungle,
but made of concrete,
Ravaging of the earth
for ore,
at the cost
of green,
and
despite
the grand colors
of rich birds flying around,
flitting loyalties,
these two
sit ,
holding on,
on what many think
is a shaky branch,
but is really,
supported,
by those
who want the old jungles back.

Call them whatever,
call them frogmouths,
that look,
is pure Anna H!

Uniting to celebrate !

When a blogger friend Dhiren, celebrates his wife's birthday and Friendship Day, by making a Pizza for she and her friends, that too, complete with step-by-step photographs , one can only applaud ......and salivate, and admire his self control as he gets in for a closeup, without eating the cheese himself .

Don't know about you, but I can smell the yum stuff here. (The pizza is happening in Bharuch, Gujarat (on India's west coast)....)...........RUSH !


(all photographs by Dhiren Shah)

The humble onion
resting on a grainy bed,
groaning
under the weight
of the bossy tomato
all puffed up
because
it "knows" the sauce;
The peaceful capsicum,
trying its best
to
stay away
from the
red bossy types.

Chilliflakes
in the air,
oregano and pepper
fighting ,
and
its time
for the
blanket of cheese
to smother
all these fights.

They fight,
but melt
in the heated atmosphere...

Against
a common enemy ,
(Dhiren),
to fight
and go down,
with pepsi,
United !

Pulling to celebrate.....

Throughout many temples in India, there are always some special celebrations in honor of a particular God or Goddess, which involve elaborate prayers , gatherings of large amount of devotees, distribution of Prasad (blessed foodstuff), and many times , a procession of the deity, in traditional chariots, that celebrate the arts and crafts of the region.

Below is a photograph (by Deepak Amembal Magiceye) , of the chariot of the The Goddess Mookambika from the Mookambika temple in Kollur, Karnataka. On a special day during the year, the Goddess is installed in the chariot with elaborate ceremonies, and taken in a procession through the city, pulled by the devotees, with great pomp, celebration and devotion .


(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)
Custom made
four wheel drive,
powered by
extra large wheels,
confident wishful transmission,
deep faithful
driver's seat,
with
absolutely clear
front view,
real time peripheral vision,
objects always as close
as you think
they are.

Elevated
passenger seat,
with worldwide
surround sound "vision" ;
No windows required
as passenger
can see
within you,
anytime.
(photo courtesy Google)
Movement
by a special pull
of hundreds,
powered
by
their immense faith
and sonorous prayers....

Suitable for Goddesses......

Fortified Lives

My state of Maharashtra is home to several historical forts built by the Maratha Rulers . These were seats of government, sometimes used as the treasury of the government, and all of them were built in a way that entire armies and the ruling elite and officers , sometimes including families were able to stay here for large periods of time. These places had watchtowers, temples, watersupply systems, canons, moats , and complicate and secret entrances and exits

Immense amount of engineering was done in these places, and pathways laid out for even elephants and horses, to climb to the top

This is a view of the steps leading to the top of the Lohgad fort, the name translating to "An Iron Fort". A photo taken my my friend Magiceye.



आयुष्यातील अनेक प्रवास ,
काही खडकाळ दिवस ,
ओबड़ धोबड़ अनुभव ,
कधी सूर्याचा प्रखर राग,
तर
कधी पद्धतशीर पायरी पायरी ने
जाणारे ,
पुढे नेणारे वसंताचे दिवस ,
कुणा एका
प्रेमळ आजीच्या कुशी सारखी
सावली व विश्रांति देणारे वृक्ष,
आणि
परत जोमाने पुढे नेणारे मन.....
गडाच्या बुरुजावर उभ राहून
खाली बघून
मनात येत....
"वाट कठीण असो वा सोपी,
अथक खर्या प्रयत्नांती
शेवटी यश हे
नक्कीच आपल अस्त .....


Journeys
of our life;

Sometimes,
through
shapeless obstructions
and rocky obstacles.
in the glare
of a burning sun;

Or Sometimes,
systematically,
ascending in stairs,
like
the advancing days
of a pleasnat spring,
perhaps
in the shade
of a Grandma Tree
inviting
you for a stopover.

Trudging up,
in patience,
then
Galloping
feet and minds,
standing
on the parapet
of the great Fort of Life,
and the stone
speaks;
"It doesnt matter
if the path be
easy or difficult;
Honest effort always begets success....."

Citizen Bozo

Some folks are really important. They have their own blog, photo album, and their birthdays are celebrated by folks across the world wishing them . ( I honestly doubt if our PM, the British Monarch, or even Mr Obama can match that )..

Blogger friend , Magiceye, has a separate blog dedicated to the subject of this post, Bozo, who recently had a birthday, and may be seen showing off his new blue collar below, all in a typical , well brought up, low-key style.

A typical Mumbaikar, totally unaffected by the snazzy suburb of Mumbai he lives in, happy with the little things that matter in life....


(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)
Page 3 Lassie
sauntering by
with her studded collar
last week,
smirking
as she
gave me
a once over
from a Honda City
being driven
to the
Carter Road Promenade
for her daily "walk"....


I am the
real Mumbai chap;
I run
through the rain
with my human,
splash through the puddles,
growl
at trespassers in my path,
wave at the cops
and ignore show offs,
only to
come home
to contemplate life,
and then stand
at the window,
waiting
for someone
to return home from work,
so I can
sit at his feet
nuzzling,
and making noises.

A solid blue
new denim
birthday neck piece,
sharing a
special fish dinner,
all these
worldwide birthday wishes...

Agobai***, Woof !
I can hear Deepak calling out
for a birthday photo,
but I am
too overcome with shyness
to turn my face ...!


*** A typical middle class Marathi exclamation of wonder/alarm.