When i Fell in love!!

The radiance of a woman is always captured by an eye who adores art, rest use it. I have been inspired to write and click coz lot of beautiful subjects that have hit my heart in my journey, woman being one of them. But this time it was unusual.
I have his gallant body in my memory ever since I remember but this time it was new. My heart clouted when I heard him. Beauty and grace has always been an insight for an artist what else could I ask for. I saw him pass by me a lot of times and every time I noticed one new tone on him which gave me a smile. He made every one around him look good. History is written from his back but never heard from a heart. My heart spoke for him every time I saw him. The beauty here am talking of is a horse. I learnt every side of his I know him as a obedient partner, lover and a man with gallant heart. The world today has gone plastic, its been long that any human has touched my heart how much a horse did.
I have been to this place ever since I remember incidents and recognize people. But this same old place was new to me, I spoke to everything around and wanted to know more. This new place is a small plateau near Mumbai called Matheran though close to the city it still smells ancient and feels Indian. There’s mud all over but no cars or bikes to ruffle it, only the trot or a gallop of a horse disturbs the red mud. My heart shrunk when I saw them loaded with saddles, accessories, harnesses, loads and people who sit on it with no honor. Horses served only one person TRANSPORTATION. Are they worth that? They are warriors know how to fight and ride themselves free and chase the shadow of an eagle. The long tail which helps him swatter the flies and keep his bottom warm in the cold. The style he rests
in with grace and peace. My love for a horse will never die. When I saw him race with the others I knew he was the one who would fight the odds and come ahead and bring pride and honor to his master. As I say with honor comes responsibility and this horse, Magican took care of his master how much he did of himself. I went I had a word with his master and ran my hands over Magicans sturdy, colossal body and realized for the first time even horses sweat but I still continued to run my hand over his body while he swayed his tails and his sweat remained on my palms.
How much a two legged creature is strange? Few people treat them just as means of income, transportation and their masters. What they don’t realize is they are the masters because you have trapped the horse in all possible ways let him off the saddle and other traps, let him gratis and then lets see who rides whom. My only yearning when I grow up I would want a horse who would live the way he wants to and he would be my master for sure I know he is more intelligent matured and has a better heart than what any human has. He is the man with steel body but a supple heart and steadfast to the ones whom he loves till he gets love and respect from them. His master told me a charming little tale about magicans life. He is in a dedicated relationship with a horse called pasta
and they have been together for 4 years now. When magican and pasta walk together pasta is always a step behind and looks tiny in front of magican. Whatever they are given is made half and half and shared with love. While pasta sits to sleep magican watches her back by standing all through out the night for her. She was a perfect woman for him and he did all his duties and they live happily even with saddles on them and make everyone happy who ride them.
My love for a horse will never die but expectations from a human will increase.

YETHE KACHRA TAKNYAS MANAI AAHEY!!

Bingo,kurkure,gutka,condom more seen on roads then in the garbage bin or at the vendor. While I have my walk around the city it hurts me to see any person throwing Kachra on the road. The worst part when you tell them not to… they are offended and give a look to you saying do you have the RIGHT to correct m. Bloody its my city I live here and breath here I wan to breath clean and don’t get stuck in rain and blame the poor pavus its damn you throwing plastic around and jamming the sewage and BLA!!!
Hitch lies with our teachings in schools nothings much taught bout keeping our environment clean and how important it is in a long run to dispose the waste at the right place. All we are taught are those few thick lines on cleanliness from those dumb text books and teachers make us repeat after them. With an exception where I saw this kid who travelled after school in the train with his mother . as his mother chattered away to glory with the other ladies this kid quietly ate a packet of little hearts and when he was done very neatly wiped his hands to his hankie and then folded the empty packet neatly and stuffed it into his bag so that he could have gone and thrown it into his residential dustbin and not on the tracks. But to my surprise his mother batted his hand and yelled at him to keep the kachra in the bag and forced him to throw it out and out of fear he followed what his mother said. As individual whatever role we are playing with our surroundings or with people arnd us we can correct them. BUT!! I know you feel a lil scarred of weird to correct unknown people thinking of how they myt react. But feel free to correct BMC has appointed a few heads who dress up in casual and come tapping on your back to burn your 200 rupees from your piggy. One of my dear mates happened to face this and came and informed me about this incident and to his kick he felt bad when he saw me smile while he recited how he was fined rs.200 early morning. The smile was because I always wanted some monitor for Mumbai I don’t mind doing it myself if am given the authority. I don’t know why people come to Mumbai saying it’s the place where dreams come true and kill Mumbai themselves and so do Mumbaikars. And even if I correct someone for littering am spoken ill off WHY?? Why cant you see that its our duty together to keep our city clean. Mumbai has given every entity something why can’t we give Mumbai flowers and fragrance instead of wrappers and stench??No one has to respect anyones authority here ,but indeed respect MUMBAI.

On request my friends identity is gonna b hidden but will narrate in short what happnede with him. As he smoked at dadar station peacefully with a cutting and when the ash reached the bud he threw it down and stifled the bud wid his shoes. With that BMC man came and fined him rupees 200. At that my friend being a typical mumbaikar said “dada shambhar ghya,pavti naka fadu” the Bmc fellow didn’t budge and flashed his ID to prove it that he is really with the BMC and has to answer his superiors. With that my friend very responsibly handed 200 rupees and wud think before littering around. Though I felt bad coz the real kachra makers slip away coz few BMC holders can’t keep monitoring to keep the city clean alone. Its every individual who has to take this responsibility and correct the next person with a smile and ask him or her not to do it but if they still do it you make an effort to pick it up or take away the rags he or she was planning to dump on the road or station and dump it in your bag and then makes its way peacefully in the dustbin you next see : )
This note is for the people who aren’t aware of this so that next time you think of throwing anytype of kachra or spitting or also peeing you may want to rethink and the quiet watchers you are worst than the ones who are doing the crime. So get aware mumbaikars and make Mumbai a better place to live.

this made me really happy coz i felt bad when i carried the din bhar ka kachra in my bag thinking of not littering around but saw 100's around me throwing kachra like someone is goin to suck it to keep the place clean.

The SWEET Aunty : )

I always thought of myself to be bizarre when I spoke to myself while I traveled and walked around. But I didn’t realize when I talk in to me, am not talking gibberish whether am looking good, is my hair ok or my nails done properly. All I do while I travel daily is OBSERVE people around me and what I get to learn and tell others from them. One of the steamy afternoons I was rushing for a shoot in goregaon while I was reaching bandra a very lovable old Punjabi aunty got in the train with a smile on her face. She opened her jhola and removed boxes of sweet. this reminds me of birthdays in school days were we got grabbing’s from our birthday frens as we would wait for him or her to remove the box of sweets from the bag.
The Sweet Aunty was selling chocolates of the brand Cadbury, 5star, munch and éclairs not the ones which are spelled muanch, cabdury ékliars. They were the original ones. She brought me a great smile though she was old and needed money she enjoyed selling sweets and making everyone happy. I bought chocolates worth Rs. 35 from her. but with her got in 2 kids they were siblings one of arnd 7 years and other barely 5 years and the train started moving the elder one started singing at the ugliest voice she could and the younger one very sweetly batted everyone’s hand and asked to drop some money in his glass. Everyone looking at this tiny hands begging managed to give some money when that kid came to me I shouted at him and asked to walk off. With that the lady next to gave me a look sayin “aaj ki ladkiyon ko kya attitude hota hai no manners and blaaa!!” and to prove me even cruel she handed that 5 year old kid a 5 rupee dollar. The Chocolate aunty came to me and gifted me a thank you. She narrated to me that “baby am 62 years old I get in this train everyday to sell my chocolates I never cheat I don’t sell sasta maal coz they spoil your health. But why god is so unfair. I go the truthful way to earn money these beggar kids get in with me and make more money than me(they make more than Rs.2000 a day). People are willing to give 5 rupees to them even when they are not giving them joy or sweetness in return. I give the one thing that makes a 2 year to 80 year old human a smile “CHOCOLATES” still people choose beggars over me”
With that she gave the aunty a look and a smile,who sat and abused me coz I batted that 5 years old kid. This simple thought and experience taught me one thing we are responsible for the dirt around us. STOP GIVING money to the ones who beg even when they are hale and hearty. Once you stop it they cant do anything. encourage people who make an effort to sell and earn money be it a pass holder or a mobile cover if you wan to help …help in the right way DON’T ENCOURAGE THE DIRT ENCOURAGE THE HARD WORKERS.

Chor bazar ki Galli..

If you don’t have an eye for art and tang for the rust do not wander in the alleys of Chor bazaar.
Friday is the day when all the shops drag their shutters down and a mass of people spread there sheets to display and sell the stuff they have got in there bag. You name anything and you will get it. From boxing gloves to skates, furniture to clothes.

As the name Chor bazaar sounds it’s a huge flea market where the things sold are usually stolen. I never went to this place before coz I was very rigid about view on this place as my elders always spoke ill of this place. But indeed it’s a paradise for and artist and antiquarians. I spotted some real weird things even spotted an antique car which was used as a sleeping base for a dog and back rest for some comfort while selling.

You have to be street smart and make a good deal out of your purchase.
My clicks would tell you what a wide range of things are sold in this paradise. After going through a few lanes of junks I had already sketched my dream house where am sure all my furniture was surely gonna be picked from chor bazaar. The wooden chairs, bar tables magical mirror and unusual types of liquor bottles. One bottle that wedged my eye was a bottle fashioned like a khanjar with some lil green tinge. When you walk around you see white caps and black bhurkas, yes this place is dominated and run by the Muslims. That’s why you can smell a lot of mutton in the air and a huge range of food items on every corner and hefty goats walking around.
If you know how to carry your self smartly no one will come your way. If your body language is weak you indeed will be taken for a ride. Do not dare dress up well and go there coz Chor Bazari’s have an eye and can read people real easily and on that basis they would charge a bomb and not bargain. Dress up as shabby as you can and look unclean and smell bad coz if you smell good you are telling the flickers out loud that you have and expensive perfume in your bag. I was expecting to face a lot of odds and ugly remarks but I was surprised with the warm smiles prolly it was the press tag and my clixy which hung arnd my neck and as I said carry a very smart body lingo.
You have people of all range of umar buying stuff from this street. And the set up is really very fascinating you cleanly don’t know what’s gonna be next. If you looking at a story book suddenly you have a neat pair of skates next to it.
It was indeed very exciting to spot Amitab bachchan in Chor bazar
As this was my first time I was just trying to observe people around and not talk too much but couldn't resist on asking one of the chacha’s “chacha aapka margin kitna hota hain. He smiled and he added like he was my yaar for years “full margin hamare hi hai Didi, chori ka toh maal hai” wow that’s what I call business. It was surprising that though they sell chori ka maal they do study what they selling so that they can add a few heavy words while convincing a customer. Like on one of the sheets I saw an amazing range of lenses like and 50 mm 70 mm and a telephoto, the moment he saw clixy in my hand he picked a bag and removed canon 3000 and attached the tele lens and explained a few things and showed how the flash works and also explained the other lenses weren’t for a Digital SLR. I was amazed at the words he used and how confidently he blurted them.
I have been to a lot of flea markets this indeed was the best, better than goa.
The experience was awesome and my notion was cleared about this place.

And a little of green to end with.

Manisha and Anita

Immaterial gifts are something which make a mark on your mind like permanent marker on a cloth. Being a Photog and a writer traveling comes as a package; on my travel I do come across out of the ordinary people who grant me reminiscences which last forever and get my eyes wet. Its shocker for me how few people in just a meet can change the way you look at things.
Had hit off for a shoot in kokan where I spend some real good time with the villagers in Karde gaav (Dapoli) with their finger licking fish and Slurppy Solkadi. On the way back took the route via Tamini Ghat.Visited the Ghatjai temple. Being an atheists and a more of an artist most of my time is spend in looking at how artistically the temples are made and what’s interesting to click around.While I was strolling I caught the attention of the sound of A B C D and took notice of two little girls practicing there studies. I was really touched for the way they practiced. With the help of a small wooden stick they carved the letters on the ground. As I observed them for some time one of them told the other girl a word and she tried writing that.


I took the opportunity and got talking to them and told them to write my name, they were both excited about the little favor I asked them to do and they wrote my name well on the ground. While they wrote my name I asked them there names, very neatly both of them spelled their names one after the other. They were crowned as Anita and Manisha and studied in a municipality school across the village where they barely had benches and were devoid of the simple comfort called Books and pencils and that’s the reason why they practiced there “Spellings” on the ground. I spoke to them and gave them pack of biscuit, books and pens.


After receiving this Manisha uttered very timidly “you gave me these things I don’t have anything to give you.” On that I told her that the best gift would be that you remember me when I come next. She immediately said she would carve my name on one of the barks so that she would never forget my name.
Our life is poles apart to these people. We meet so many people and with a type and click save their names on our cell phone, scribble the name on the back of our diary or pass on a visiting card but till date no one has ever taken down my contact in such a pretty way. I wish to write this story after I meet those girls again when I go there next.

Innocence

When I walk around with my camera around my neck and trying to figure out something to be clicked. Am usually gawked by the kids who play around and have no clue what weapon am hanging around my neck.

One of the days I was walking by the lanes Malabar hills and came across a kid who kept staring at me. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me, to make him feel a little easy to my strange face I started a conversation with him and asked for his name.
He said “Nanu” his mom came out from the house and told me that his name was “Dipesh”
On that I asked the kid What “Dipesh” meant, he very candidly said “Nanu”
His reply got me the broadest smile. Very rarely one gets to see so much of innocence.

The University Called as "EXPERIENCE"

With the passage of time with my photographer shoes on, I have learnt lessons that every photographer should.
Only a photographer can produce an unadulterated human expression furthermore the rude and sweet varieties of nature. A poet, cinematographer or a painter can be biased but a photographer cannot.
The poet benefits from the obedience of the pen; the painter takes pleasure in the conformity of the brush, cinematographer enjoys the obedience of the cast and crew and Photographers basks in the obedience of thE camera too, but unfortunate that the subject doesn’t stay still for the camera to catch them.
“A moment lost is a moment lost forever”.
To justify the lines which I have written above I will back you up with an example because of which I am writing this piece and also a reason to why this blog of mine is without a picture.
I was shooting in Jaisalmer. Dancing on the dunes was a small girl grooving on the tunes of Rajasthani notes. She caught my attention as she danced and sang in a typical Rajasthani way. She did what she was doing, so gracefully that I forgot to click, instead I started jotting the lyrics of the song she was singing. It said, “Saath kos se daudi aayi hu, jarasi dab re babua thadi raale gaadi, thari meethi rale gaadi”
But was late to pick my camera and turn to the right mode, settings and focus and then click. By that time she was done with her piece of art and was collecting money from the tourists who were feasting on the Rajasthani culture she displayed for them.
I got the song translated from one of the local boys over there, it meant “I Have come running from seven miles to catch this train, oh! Driver kindly stop your train for a moment your sweet train.
Had I been a painter I would have been able to produce the replica of the event with the same expression even after few years.
A poet could have been able to describe her expression, her dance, grace etc with the help of words even after decades.
A cinematographer can recreate the scene by umpteen numbers of takes and retakes and could have reproduced the girls dance.
But “I” as a Photographer lost the opportunity. I could have asked her to do it once again but the consciousness of being clicked would have killed the natural and innocent look in her.