Ramesh Gandhi

Severance

2012-01-11T18:04:00.000+05:30

When we bend and cause to break a twig, a branch, a petal, we unknowingly cause mortification. We stop the flow of nutrients and vital DNA variants to the life-support system. Think or talk about what we assume to be omniscience of life; as we take all forms of life for granted as permanent, are they not transient and incredibly fragile.

-------------------------
Charu wrote:
Yes, indeed. Plus a break in order destroys thesplendor of "Dreamy" and advances the hideousness of"Severance".

It is perhaps not coincidental that both are posted sequentially.
-------------------------------------
Anonymous wrote:

Although the photograph depicts a 'natural' phenomenon, it serves as a reminder of the inevitability of abrupt, often violent ruptures, when life is guided by 'conscious intelligence' rather than the natural instinct to survive.

Often I wonder
What holds amputated lives
From splitting asunder.
Does the memory of breakage
Create a protective crust
Over the wreckage?

Dreamy

2012-01-09T22:00:00.001+05:30

Silent, languorous, waiting.

--------------

Charu wrote:

So very delicate. A whisper will disintegrate it.

Anonymous wrote:

...languorous indeed, as if a life stretched out ofitself to touch the sublime and chose to freeze in that moment of yearningrather than return to the realm of the ordinary.

The Cusp of Apocalypse

2011-12-29T11:31:00.002+05:30

---------------
Charu wrote:
Beautiful.
Reminds me of "2001: A Space Odyssey" when obelisk on moon is communicating with jupiter.
------------------
Bhashwati wrote:

The twilight of consciousness

Where fire watches in awe
As ice refuses to thaw
Where double faced demons
Gift alibis to humans
Till consciousness succumbs
And the subconscious triumphs
Because a thin line divides
And ambiguity thrives
Within the ideals manufactured
To keep the facade unfractured
Of the glory of evolution
As we march to extinction

The Secret Life of Flowers

2011-12-26T11:35:00.002+05:30

---------------

Utkarsh Majmudar wrote: ""Tis the secretive secret"

-------------------

Anonymous wrote:

yeh mehekti huyi ghazal maqdoomjaisey sehra mein raat phoolon ki

Maqdoom Mohiuddin
---------------

anonymous writes again of another secret:

Rung baatein karein aur baaton sey khushboo aaye
Dard phoolon ki tarah mehekey agar tu aaye.

Zia Jalandari.

---------------------

Charu wrote:

Bhai,

Secret, and you must unravel it.

Precocious or Pre-crocus(?)

Cephalopod

2011-11-29T17:06:00.002+05:30

Cephalopods, which are a variety of mollusc, are carnivores. The octopus is a cephalopod.

When I was drawn to this particular plant, even though it did not look menacing, I could not help wondering if the markings on the tentacle-like leaves were nature's way of ensuring its cardinal principle of survival of the fittest, by attracting, luring its food to come closer. Would it follow that those leaves would close in on an unsuspecting insect, or a flower, or a fruit, and then feast upon it.

In any case, the duration of my composing the picture and clicking the camera passed without any demonstration of aggression.

------------------------
Charu wrote:

I can alomst see tantacles worming.
They will seize me any minute. Sinister. And, effective.

Serendipity

2011-11-28T11:42:00.001+05:30

Serendipity: a happy accident, a pleasant surprise.

In Sanskrit scriptures, Serendip was the name of what is currently called Sri Lanka ('dip' meaning an island). As the British could not pronounce the word, it became Ceylon.

Etymology Dictionary has this to say about serendipity:

1754 (but rare before 20c.), coined by Horace Walpole (1717-92) in a letter to Mann (dated Jan. 28); he said he formed it from the Persian fairy tale "The Three Princes of Serendip," whose heroes "were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things they were not in quest of." The name is from Serendip, an old name for Ceylon (modern Sri Lanka), from Arabic Sarandib, from Skt. Simhaladvipa "Dwelling-Place-of-Lions Island."

-----------------
Charu wrote:
Oh, that "SwarnaDweep", Golden Island in which you take a dip and get galvanized in gold foil, as in the picture. But oh, where is that place?

Symphonic

2011-10-15T15:38:00.001+05:30

A PATTERN IS

EVEN IF

ASSYMETRICAL

INTRINSICALLY

AN ORDER

IN CHAOS

LIKE VAGABOND

BREEZE

PLAYING UPON

THE RESPONSIVE

STRINGS OF A

CARESS-HUNGRY LEAF

TO EXPLODE

INTO RAPTUROUS FRAGMENTS OF AN

UNFORGETTABLE

SYMPHONY

-----------------------

Charu wrote:

Bhai,

These are the same accordion leaves that made music when breeze swayed them. Music wafted up through your drawing room windows.

You wrote about it long before I heard it.

love charu

koi le jaaye mujhe

2011-10-09T17:32:00.003+05:30

chhoti si railgaadi mein parvaton ki baahon mein

baadalon ki chaaon mein

koi le jaaye mujhe

in a toy train

in the mountains' embrace

amid the shadows of clouds

take me there, someone, please take me there

------------

Update: Anonymous said...

Zaroor le jaayengey.

Aap rail gaadi mein to baitho chal key...

Bhupen said...
Lagata hai ke aap darjeeling ki baat kar rahain hai. Maine to sirf sapano me hi dekha hai.

Pravin said...

Wonderfully dreamy picture which speaks highly of the place as well as the dreamer as well as his skill.

Surprised at the lines in Hindi.

Remember the bollywood song of the 70's:

Gaadi bulaa rahee hai

sitee bajaa rahee hai

chalnaa hi jindagee hai

chaltee hi jaa rahee hai

why is the train a metaphor of "taking away" or as you say "ley jaayege" as in Dilwale Dulhaniya Ley Jaayege, ultimately in the finale the "ley jaayege" happens in a train

I too have a metaphor of the train and ley jaayegey watching the ageing of parents: see

http://pravingandhi.com/Poems/LongDistance.htm

Gossamer

2011-07-31T19:37:00.001+05:30

Click to enlarge

-----------------------
Nancy Gandhi wrote:

The petals are translucent; cloud-butterflies, alighting on a waiting leaf.

Light in Search of Illumination

2011-07-14T17:57:00.002+05:30

-----------------------------

Anonymous said...

This is awesome. Surreal and goose pimple inducing. What should i marvel at... that such a site exists / existed
OR that you captured it???

In another lifetime as a student i possessed a copy of Lawrence's Fantasia of the Unconscious. i am reminded of the cover illustration which i would sit and stare at for hours on end. Thank you for this incredible expression of the inexpressible anguish of this dark moment in time when light itself must set out in search of illumination.

Baby Coconut Suspended Before Falling on Someone's Head

2011-07-14T17:48:00.002+05:30

-----------------------

Anonymous said...

or is it a sheershaasan in trishanku?

a most gladdening sight either way.

thank you

A Wait

2011-06-14T18:33:00.000+05:30

Conjugal

2011-06-07T17:26:00.005+05:30

-------------------------
Anonymous wrote:

The picture is many things. At the most simplistic level, it is very realistic. That's it. It's the positioning of the seats that gives your title incredible authenticity.

Then the trees that shut the world out. Is it a cover that protects or a wall that isolates? it must be my long-standing enquiry into romantic love and so called conjugal bliss that brings to my mind ominous thoughts.

Eloquent. Incomparable conjunction between the name and the image.

Photosynthesis

2011-06-06T18:41:00.001+05:30

----------------------
Charu wrote:

Bhai,
I am developing breathing problem. Can you please stop taking such breathtaking pictures?!
Lovely.
Love charu

Stacked

2011-06-02T21:25:00.003+05:30

The samples of chairs which will be required in millions to attend the convocations of rival fasting camps for removing corruption. Ignore the amounts that changed hands in buying and selling these chairs and other amenities: there had to be a commission for such large-scale transactions.

-----------------------
Charu wrote:

Bhai,
How apropos!
Bribery on top of bribery, "stacked"
Love charu
----------------------
Vikash wrote:

Thats a very interesting point of you Sir. however dramatized all these anti- corruption agitations might appear, I still believe they are good in a way. its similar to T 20 , no matter in which direction the batsman swings watt matters is ( even if its a directionless way ) the ball crosses the boundary line....

Pilgrim's Passage

2011-05-31T16:49:00.002+05:30

Darkness Within

2011-05-31T16:48:00.002+05:30

Scattered Crucifixion

2011-05-27T16:59:00.000+05:30

Slate

2011-05-25T18:37:00.002+05:30

Charu wrote:

दरारे,

दीवारोकी अर्शोकी

सीनोकी या फर्शोकी

कभी मिलती है

कभी बिखरती है

नक़्शे-रगोकी तरह

खूबहसीनसी लगती है

छुपी है ताराजी

इस खुबसुरतिमे

लगी लड़ी बारिशकी

या तेजीसे टूटा दिल

अचानक चुने लगती है

चुना काम दोनोका

फर्क सिर्फ इतना है

एक चूती पानी है

दूजी लहू सिनोका

--चारू

Fissures

in walls roofs

hearts or floors

they converge

they diverge

they are beautiful

map of capillaries

destruction lurks

behind this beauty

A spate of rain

or a snap of heart

will start them seeping

both will seep

difference is

one seeps water

the other blood

---charu

Diamond-Decked Venus

2011-05-25T18:33:00.000+05:30

Corruption Corrupts

2011-04-07T22:22:00.004+05:30

By its very inherent nature, corruption corrupts, and consequently is self-perpetuating...

I have apologized all my life for being incapable of bribing in any sphere. I have been victimised time and again because I was neither able to give bribes nor to take them.
Because of this inability, as a matter of principle (which I considered stupid because it was pointless; I did not achieve anything, while it cost me a lot), I resigned from every position or office of importance that I have held from my school-days. For the same reason, I sold an internationally renowned and award-winning industry.

Life would have been very comfortable had I just bribed.

There is anthropological evidence that all living are corruptible. Idealism exists only in human beings, and in most instances it is erroneous and aberrant. All the NGOs which have come out in support of Mr. Hazare are almost certainly corrupt, and the mass of people interviewed on TV news channels admitted to having given bribes or taken them, promising not to do that in future. With due respect to Anna Hazare, I guarantee that the Lok Pal bill which is being demanded will be another system of corruption, with its own empowerment.

Please do not misconstrue the above as my favouring any government: I have not voted in my life.

After the Apocalypse

2011-04-04T17:41:00.004+05:30

Thinking about total annihilation inevitably brings the thought of whether life will re-invent itself and limpingly, uncertainly, arise again. Would that there be resurgence and continuum.

---------------------
Bhai,
Looks like Phoenix rising from ashes.
Beautiful.
love, charu
-----------------------
Kanan said...

and re invent the wheel...!
----------------------
Anonymous said:

i translated the image as: Whispered Requiem.

Related thoughts:
Examining all that you have earlier said about beginnings, ends and continuum i deduced that if death is the end of conscious life then annihilation will mean the end of what our consciousness perceives as life.
In the absence of conscious life will there be any mode or means of assessing resurgence?
However going by your theory of contingency, from that annihilation must emanate a series of fresh contingencies which will ensure continuum but may be very dissimilar to life as we know it.

Thank you for the entry and thank you for causing a new thought.

Huddle

2011-03-26T19:59:00.002+05:30

A huddle is by and large assurance of unity, sharing, counselling, affirmation of intimacy, concern, empathy and comfort. Not to forget, though, that a part of this unison, carrying at its core malice, can turn it into misguidance, false promise and vendetta.

---------------------
street se gyan said...

Sir,
ur photographs and the deep meaning ur phrases contain.. needs volumes of books to explain actually the message contained in it...

and someone like me with little or no intelligence .... I am blessed that I get to meet u and hear the views direct....

:)
---------------------

The Totality of Death

2011-03-23T22:26:00.004+05:30

On their deathbeds, most people presumably believe they have not lived enough or at all. They don't realise that after death they will not be able to regret or rejoice, or, for that matter, know or feel anything about their lives. Death divests you of TOTAL consciousness.

---------------------
Anonymous wrote:
You nailed it again,
As i was repeating the last sentence in my head i muttered TOTALLY.
Death totally divests you of consciousness.

What a mercy it must seem to the fortunate few who grasp that truth as the last drop of consciousness escapes simultaneously with the last breath.

And what a colossal absolute irony that the mercy is bestowed when the subject can no longer receive. Correction when the subject ceases to be.
Thank you.
----------------------
Bhai,

I chastised myself before I finish thinking, what a pleasure to be devoid of consciousness......

There is no knowing or not knowing of pleasure to be had...let alone pleasure itself..

Love charu

In the loop

2011-03-19T20:03:00.001+05:30

All life is bound within a loop of certain fatality; only its time and manner are indeterminate.
------------------------

Anonymous said...: Bhai,A fatality that frightens most; like a snake does?Wow!Love charu

Us, humans, our lofty ideals and far more abject contradictions

2011-03-17T21:43:00.001+05:30

On Twitter, @offstumped wrote:

"Wikileaks to me is digital terror, a hit at the legitimate business of States by non state actors."

My reply:

Agreed; but then, human civilisation as it currently exists is rotten, immoral, decadent. Wikileaks therefore have a right to be part of that morass, like others who are in power, or in situations from which they can create power. They are not its cause: they are also a symptom of what we have preposterously defined as the lofty values of our civilisation, even as those values keep changing. I call this change degradation, because I am not in a position of power to create or prevent any change. Those who are powerful call it progress.

I have to say this because the definition of morality that I am talking about (that Wikileaks have a right to conform to the current state of human civilisation) does not seem to exist except as a notion in the minds of a few, like me: old-fashioned and obscure; and that again because they are powerless. If they were in power, either of wealth, buying and selling; or of waging war and causing destruction, devastation; or creating corruption in the process of buying, selling or politicking; or of sexual aberration, then their version of morality would be the one to prevail.

So, while I realise that I am not in possession of the language to define morality, by extension I also realise that no one is, because everyone is involved in the task of demolishing or creating new language, new idiom, new syntax for what they think should be considered moral, and causing the enhancement of civilisation.

Wikileaks is merely one of the billions of symptoms of increasingly worsening times in the annals of human capacity to save itself from perdition.

I, by the above exposition, am irrelevant, and so are my values. So is the writer of the tweet to which I am responding here.

Nocturnal

2011-03-02T17:40:00.002+05:30

Tranquility within, a roar without. Or vice versa.

--------------------
Charu wrote:
Looks like a whole car is in process of being swallowed up by an extra terrestrial with glowing eyes and amber tongue ...

Definitely nocturnal and definitely a roar within....

Camouflage

2011-02-25T17:56:00.002+05:30

Plants and animals alike have the genetic device which provides them with camouflage systems, which human beings have discovered as essential for survival. Mankind, however, camouflages for reasons of deceit, wickedness, avarice, and retribution, having assumed that we are already the fittest.
--------------------
Anonymous wrote:

What a perfect perch porch...
sun n shade dappled.

The text in comparison, a stark truth sans shade.

Thank you.
-------------------
Bhai,

Do I see a parrot...or is it a pigeon....wait, I think it is just a sparrow.....

What ruse....

Love charu

Craftsman

2011-02-07T16:50:00.002+05:30

----------------------------------------------
Update: Anonymous said...

Actually two of them!!!
Another piece that qualifies for the OMG category.
Thank you g
----------------------------------------------

Bhai,
He is plying himself so intently, as opposed to intensely, his knuckles have turned white.
Long white beard kind of Tagorelike...
Love charu

Neighbours

2011-01-30T17:02:00.000+05:30

Journey's End

2011-01-23T23:07:00.002+05:30

Everything ends in new beginnings

------------------------

Update: Bhashwati wrote:

i like black but that is only a backdrop to the composition.

i like the way light has fallen on some sections of the 'journey' but that too is only a part.

i like the title 'Journey's End' as much as i like the tagline, 'Everything ends in new beginnings' but those came after the composition.

So i asked myself what made me gasp, in this composition.

i think it was these:

It is jagged but allows room for smoothness.

The precipice cradles the curve of a valley.

The level proceeds to an ascent and the ascent declines gently into an even path (both sides bridged by a buffer zone), depending on which part of her or his life journey the viewer is traversing at the point of viewing.

In some ways the composition is like a heteronym and a palindrome if such a thing is possible.

Go at it from any side, it is tough and it makes sense, as much sense that is as the randomness of life's journey will allow.

----------------------------

Nancy wrote:

The first thing that comes to mind is that the picture is Bergmanesque. If Bergman's films do not have this image, I have no doubt that he would have produced it at some time, if he had lived. This immediately recalled the end of The Seventh Seal, when all the characters climb laboriously up a distant slope, behind the black-robed figure of Death. That's a kind of new beginning too, I suppose.

Radiance

2011-01-15T22:04:00.003+05:30

"Mera azm itna buland hai ke paraye shaulon ka dar nahin
Mujhe khauf aatish-e-gul se hai, ye kaheen chaman ko jala ne de"

[My resolve is so strong that I do not fear the flames from without
I fear only the radiance of the flowers, that it might burn my garden down]

— Shakeel Badayuni (via Cafe Pyala)

----------------
Update:

Bhai,

Beautiful! love the colors, the radiance, the fire, the angle...; I almost swooned...

love charu
---------------
Sir,

I kept looking at the picture for well over 5 minutes.

so very admirable

Vikash
--------------

Bhavna wrote: "Stunning, Mesmerizing, Beautiful!"

Reflections Over Tea

2011-01-15T21:55:00.003+05:30

-------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:

There must be a term to describe what you do to objects with your eyes, lens and light combo. Photography doesn't begin to describe it:)

Because of the title you have given i'm reminded of Kaifi's composition

Ek Lamha

zindagi naam hai kuch lamhon ka
aur un mein bhi wahi ek lamha
jis mein do bolti aankhein
chaai ki pyaali se jab uthein
to dil mein doobein
doob ke dil mein kahein
aaj tum kuch na kaho
aaj hum kuch na kahein
bas yun hi baithey rahein
haath mein haath liye
gham ki saugaat liye
garmi-e-jazbaat liye
kaun jaane ki isi lamhe mein
door parbat par kahin barf pighalne hi lagey

Desire

2011-01-15T20:32:00.000+05:30

DESIRE
IN THE RAIN
UNDER A LARGE BANYAN TREE
NEAR THE RIVER BANK
ON THE WINDING OUTSKIRT
OF THE VILLAGE

A TOUCH OF MOIST SKIN
BURNING BODIES AND CLOTHES
FURTIVE GLANCES
FRIGHTENED BY HUNGER
TOWARDS THE PATHWAY
FEIGNING CAUTION AGAINST INTRUDERS
BEFORE THROWING IT AND SHAME
TO THE WINDS

TWO BODIES
CLUMSILY POISED
IN MUTUAL CONQUEST AND SURRENDER
AS RAIN SET THEM AFIRE
FELL ON THE MUD FOR GENTLE SUPPORT
TORE AT THE LAST STRINGS OF RESTRAINTS
MELTED AS ONE TO BECOME
A HEAVING MOUND OF ELEMENTAL EARTH

WHICH DISSOLVED
AS THE MOUNTAINS CRUMBLED
THE OCEANS OVERFLOWED
AND TIME STOOD STILL

IN THAT MOMENT
DID NOT EXIST
THE PATH NOR THE TREE
NOR THE RIVER
NOR THE RAIN

IN THAT MOMENT
EVEN LOVE DIED
TO DIE AGAIN A HUNDRED THOUSAND TIMES

Window Door Mirror

2011-01-09T16:56:00.000+05:30

Divided by distances...

2010-12-31T22:36:00.003+05:30

... gravitational and magnetic forces, unconnected, having no culture, having no life, only matter; guided, misdirected by forces out of its own volition or control; and yet, for the viewer, depending upon who it is, with enormous beauty and balance. Tranquil, beautifully balanced, and radiative.

------------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:
Aahhhh such poise between the image and the text...

Perhaps that is THE CLUE to beauty, balance and harmony?

To be matter alone sans paraphernalia of consciousness.
But in the absence of conscious life who would appreciate such indestructible beauty?

-----------------------
Bhai,

I am at a loss. Cannot think of anything to say......

love charu

Matrimonial Bliss

2010-12-15T17:32:00.002+05:30

--------------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:

Who is speaking ? who is listening?? True marital bliss
--------------------------
Bhupen wrote:

I am on the right.
--------------------------
I replied:

You are right.

Jokes apart, no one in the whole world even remotely would think that those clay clowns (actually one, photographed twice by double exposure with altered lighting in 1965) would connect with Bhupen-Charu, although, interestingly, everyone who has reacted to that posting has compared themselves and their marriages to that ludicrous photograph.

Half-Formed Memory

2010-12-08T14:15:00.002+05:30

MEMORY:
NOW PAINFULLY FAMILIAR
AND AGAIN NOT;
FLEETING ELUSIVE
BUT OBSESSIVE

DEFIES DEFINITION
STIFLES WORDS
RECOGNITION
BUT NOT YEARNING
THAT BECOMES A PAIN IN THE THROAT
A GROWING LUMP THAT IS
A HOLLOW MOUNTAIN OF CLOUD
BEFORE BURSTING
TO BLUR MY VISION
INTO UNCONTROLLABLE TORRENTS

MEMORY,
FOREVER PERSISTENT, FOREVER
DISSOLVING,
FOREVER
HALF-FORMED MEMORY

----------------------

Update: Anonymous wrote:

बस एक लौ काफी है
अंधेरे को निगलने के लिए
कोई एक उम्मीद मिल जाए
सजा ए उम्र झेलने के लिए

Shard

2010-12-05T17:43:00.001+05:30

Everything in the universe is breakable. This is knowable, however, only to a conscious, feeling mind. For human beings most importantly, relationships, possessions, formidable attitudes assumed as unwavering, etc. etc. All are breakable, and in their wake they bring unbearable pain, anger, hatred, grief, loss.

Hum kyon shikwa karein jootha

Kya hua jo dil toota

Sheeshe ka khilona tha

Kuchh na kuchh to hona tha, hua

Can one complain

When the heart breaks

A toy made of glass

Something has to happen

It breaks

(Hindi lyric by Anand Bakshi)

Fishy

2010-12-03T22:20:00.002+05:30

Fishy can mean connected with or concerning or arising from a fish, apart from the smell; it can also mean suspect, rotten, corrupt, and several other things without any relation to fish. So, take this picture for instance. I could call it fishy and probably get away with it; but then actually it is the remnant of a scoop of strawberry ice cream. Now, if that is not fishy, what is?
---------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:

Ah but if a cat were to find it and lick it up it would indeed, in the cat's consciousness, be equivalent to fishy.

Please dont spoil the game by reminding me that a cat has no consciousness. It has i assure you, only in catsworld it resides in the nose and tongue :)
--------------
Charu said:

Bhai,
Aren't you being circuitous...ha..ha.ha!
You could have called it zebra and I would have believed you....!!!
love charu
----------------
Anonymous said:

Peered from various angles and could`nt see the fishiness ( apologise if such a word does not exist) agree with charu on the zebraish train of thought...
------------------
I replied:

That's why it is fishy: because of the uncertainty, and because of the doubt it provokes: is it an aquatic creature, skeletal leftover, part of a larger pattern and design? Is it edible? Is it venomous? The strawberry ice cream, the leftover of which it was, was certainly not fishy.

Joie de Vivre

2010-12-03T20:19:00.000+05:30

1965

A Certain Smile

2010-11-30T13:15:00.002+05:30

--------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:

When you see what i have seen...
When you give what i have given...
When you know what i have known...

You will then perhaps be ready to learn the alphabet of what they call L I F E.
--------------------
Update: Charu wrote:

Bhai,

Apt grins for each stages of life.

Mischief
Allure/Coy
Carefree

love charu

Contours of Reality

2010-11-28T23:16:00.002+05:30

Boston, 1997

What is reality? What is truth? What is distortion? What is illusion? What is a lie, to deceive? What is a lie that comes from the unknown, or fear, or misguidance? Metaphysics is the equipment human beings have to respond to these and other such related questions. But then, human beings being fallible, apart from being variable, would deal with metaphysics also differently. So then, we become rudderless, at which time superstition and religion creep in and pervade. The irony is that religion is the ultimate self-deception, but then, most of mankind relegate their incomprehension to it, and to some design somewhere by some derelict designer, and wade through their lives in delusions, and belief in contentment emanating from them. Sigh.
--------------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:
The image is a volume in itself. i could fill each grid with fresh meaning.

And
What a timely text.
But there is an absoluteness to it which would make it appropriate at any time, all times.

Mankind, relegating incomprehension to religion does acknowledge that it is deifying a derelict designer?
And in a stupendous feat of stupidity then designs its own dereliction to match the 'divine' randomness?

What a bizarre situation.
First we propound the brazen lie that God created man in his own image although no one has seen that God image.
Then we go creating ourselves in what we claim is the divine image: arbitrary, whimsical, erratic, heedless, ruthless, all knowing, tyrannical, receptive to flattery, bribery, completely irrational and even more completely unaccountable.

Thank you
-------------------------
Update: Charu wrote:

Bhai,
How can these statements ever be questioned?

All encompassing; there is not even a sliver of opening where a disputing argument can sneak in...
Love
Charu

Life, a Bottomless Well

2010-11-22T12:13:00.002+05:30

Labyrinth, with death as the only exit

All my life I have groped in dark recesses of my mind for illumination and understanding of the meaning of existence, unfortunately without finding either. That would demonstrate either my incompetence, incompatibility, or the worthlessness of life itself in absolute terms.

The irony has been that life’s only articulate and expressive representatives that one can engage in this quest are human beings, grossly confused if not biased altogether by the subjectivity of their personal experiences and reactions, unquestioningly inherited by tradition.

It is a no-win situation: If I succeed I have no adversarial reference point to prove life’s worthlessness and absence of its connectivity, because human beings live by virtue of unquestioned belief in life’s imperative import. That being the case, win or lose, this battle for knowledge of life or its extent is lost. Therefore, it follows without question, that I am a loser. So, interestingly, or shall I say intriguingly, metaphysically, life is also a loser, for having offered no contest.
---------------------
Update: Anonymous wrote:

You are incredible, SIR.

How can you for a moment consider yourself irrelevant to the business of life? Is there another such that can unravel complex thought the way you do and express it with such lucidity?

What use is it you will ask.
It points the way for a meaningful existence, despite the cross of consciousness that one must bear.

A long standing ovation to the text
and a wondrous speech struck admiration for the image.
----------------------
Update: Charu wrote:

Bhai,

Who could say it better than you...

Will anyone pause and ponder even?

Most of us are mechanical robots wound up with keys of religion and tradition and everything else that goes with them.

love charu

Forbidden Fruit

2010-11-20T19:26:00.000+05:30

Is it unfortunate that it is irresistably succulent?

Gentle Waves, Gently Flow

2010-11-19T13:20:00.000+05:30

Pre-Dawn

2010-11-18T13:11:00.001+05:30

The Sour Grape

2010-11-18T13:07:00.000+05:30

Aroused

2010-11-18T13:04:00.000+05:30

The Stars Frolic

2010-11-18T12:59:00.000+05:30

chaand kahaan
taare yahaan
mauj manaa rahe

tum kahaan
tumhaare bina
ham akele
kaise jiye

Forlorn

2010-11-10T16:28:00.000+05:30

Illumination

2010-11-10T16:22:00.001+05:30

light that cannot lead
but to darkness

Ruins

2010-10-31T21:07:00.000+05:30

Backward Forward in Time at 1,86,000 miles per second

I AM
BEHIND TIME

IN EVERYTHING
I THINK I WANT
TO TRY TO WISH TO DO
AND DON'T
WONDERING IF IT MATTERS
TO TIME:
IF IT IS SEEING, HEARING,
WONDERING, JUDGING.

I LIVE
OR AM I BEING
UNKNOWN TO ME
LIVED
BY LIFE
APPARENTLY PUSHING AND
DRAGGING ME
EVENTUALLY TO LEAVE ME

UNRESOLVED,
RATHER THAN DO,
I DON'T
RATHER THAN USE TIME
I STEP OUT OF IT
AND PLAINTIVELY
LET IT OVERTAKE ME
IGNORE ME

IS TIME BAFFLED
BY MY INEPTITUDE
AND CLUMSY INVOLUNTARY MOTIONS
THROUGH IT
INTO IT, OR OUT OF IT

WHAT IS TIME ANYWAY
AND FOR THAT MATTER, I?

Aspects of a Feather

2010-10-30T15:07:00.001+05:30

Before it got detached it was part of a flying apparatus. Now disconnected, it can only fly, directionless, if a breeze blows it; or some playful child ties it to a string and pulls it through the air; or it becomes part of some tossed toy, like a shuttlecock.

The Wounded Gladiator

2010-10-21T20:39:00.000+05:30

This is not an advertisement for the bike or the helmet; this is in the interest of safe driving and protecting life.

Free Lunch for Leukemia?

2010-10-13T20:09:00.000+05:30

Subject: Please don't delete this without forwarding

'Imitinef Mercilet' is a medicine which cures blood cancer.
Its available free of cost at Adyar Cancer Institute in Chennai.
Create Awareness. It might help someone.
Forward to as many as u can, kindness cost nothing.

The above came to me as a forwarded email message. It could be purely the result of a misguided attempt at profiteering, mischief-making, or plain stupidity, none of which is within my reach to deal with. I cannot trace the originator, and therefore, following are my shocked ruminations:

All facilities, all over the world, including in India, which treat, or claim to treat, cancer in its various forms and manifestations, exist with legal and illegal licenses to do so. Touching the subject of how to regulate medical care anywhere is beyond the realm of my ability, and vests entirely in the hands of various law and regulatory agencies.

The important point that I can make here is, how can someone be allowed to circulate such a message, because not all who will receive it will understand its dangerous consequences and the misconceptions arising out of it.

Leukemia and other forms of blood cancer, and other cancers in general, are variously treated with different results, depending on a multitude of factors. The medicines and the enormously sophisticated equipment required to impart such treatment are a great responsibility in the hands of doctors who admit and handle such cases.

Leukemia cells from research papers

There are many forms in which leukemia manifests itself, and countless differing approaches exercised by the physicians and the institutions who handle the patients afflicted with this dread disease. 'Imitinef Mercilet' ("Imitinef Mercilet" is apparently an alternative spelling of the cancer drug, Imatinib mesylate) is not like aspirin. It is a complex medication, where whether it is free or not is definitely not the main issue. Implying that the Cancer Institute at Adyar in Chennai doles it out for free is the most cavalier way of planting an outrageously preposterous and dangerous notion in the minds of people with little or remote chance of being afflicted with cancer of any type, or who are just plain ignorant.

Apart from the fact that the Chennai institute is not the only place in the world where this drug is administered, it would be given on a case to case basis, and not as a general panacea. If someone took the circular seriously, with a member of the family suffering from cancer in some form, does the writer/sender of this circular expect that the Cancer Institute, upon one’s approaching it, will quickly deliver free medicine? and for how many days, without first admitting the patient, checking him/her out, charging for the tests, hospitalization, radiation, chemotherapy, and whatever other treatments are needed to save the patient; if indeed the patient does prove to have cancer.

I do not want to lengthen this argument. I feel that such use of electronic media, if it cannot be banned, should at least not be encouraged, and should be crushed as quickly as possible. I believe that I will have unanimity of support of my deep concern, which people will in turn share. If, on the other hand, even one percent of people actually believe that this is a useful circular, and that the message should be spread; if they believe that the drug would be handed over to them on asking, and that everything would be free and hunky-dory, I would like them to come forward and put forth their argument to me. If convinced, I will withdraw my complaint.

pictures taken in my drawing-room

Another Day, Another Year in the Life of One Alone in a City, in a Town

2010-10-12T21:08:00.003+05:30

ONE, ALONE
IN THE CITY, EARTH
ALL THE TIME -- DAY, NIGHT
SEEKS MEANING OF LIFE, TRUTH --

THESE PATHS
WHICH ARE LONGER
THAN ANY LIFETIME
HAVE NEVER BEEN SEEN
ANY DESTINATION TO REACH

DARKER THAN MOONLESS NIGHT
THE WELL OF LIFE
DRAWS SMOKE
INSTEAD OF TEARS
FROM HIS UNSHELTERED EYES

ONE, ALONE
HAS LIVED MANY LIFETIMES
AND ONE MORE YEAR
LET SLIP THROUGH HIS FINGERS
TIMELESS SANDS
OF MEANINGLESSNESS, LIES

NOW WITHOUT REASON TO LIVE
AND INABILITY TO DIE
COUNTS EVERY PASSING MOMENT
AS A YEAR BACKWARD
AND INSTEAD OF THE TRUTH
YEARNS ONLY JUST TO KNOW
HOW LONG
ONEALONE

(This poem was written in response to a greeting which I received on my birthday. Some lines were inspired by Gulzar's 'Ek Akela Is Shehr Men')

Future Past

2010-10-08T21:29:00.000+05:30

As I took this picture near my factory in Velachery in 1973, I saw the cyclist receding in my rear-view mirror as my past receding; or at least felt that it would be so nice if the past moved away like the cyclist did, became smaller and smaller, until it disappeared. Unfortunately, I ended up with a picture which, subconsciously, represented my misfortune: obscure future, and sharp past.

If only it were possible to consider looking out of the windshield of your car as looking to the future, and looking at the tiny rear-view mirror fixed at the centre of this larger glass as looking at the past, how much easier would it become to pass through life. Looking at the larger picture, which is the future, and considering the past as smaller and dwindling, even disappearing. Perhaps it is possible for most people, who are capable of going through life and gifted with unquestioning mentality. But others, who reside in the company and curse of greater consciousness, for them why does it work only in reverse: the small and vanishing past, in any case inalterable, becomes obsessive, while the larger picture of the future remains obscure. So much so, that the power of the past to haunt can destroy prospects of an even better, or quieter, more tranquil, future.

Ganesh

2010-10-02T14:19:00.000+05:30

An unusual depiction of Ganesh; my photograph, expressionistically taken in a hotel suite in Calcutta in 2010

Ganesh is very lovingly revered by all Hindus, Jains and Buddhists.

He is the son of Shiva and Parvati. He has a human body with an elephant's head. He is the Remover of Obstacles, and is worshipped at the beginning of every new venture, to ensure its success.

Here is one invocation of Ganesh, written by Girish Karnad at the beginning of his play Hayavadana:

May Vighneshwara, the destroyer of obstacles, who removes all hurdles and crowns all endeavours with success, bless our performance now. How indeed can one hope to describe his glory in our poor, disabled words? An elephant's head on a human body, a broken tusk and a cracked belly -- whichever way you look at him he seems the embodiment of imperfection, of incompleteness. How indeed can one fathom the mystery that this very Vakratunda-Mahakaya, with his crooked face and distorted body, is the Lord and Master of Success and Perfection? Could it be that this Image of Purity and Holiness, this mangala-moorty, intends to signify by his very appearance that the completeness of God is something no poor mortal can comprehend?

Like most of the gods, Ganesh has many names, which refer to their various attributes. One, which is used most endearingly, is Lambodara, One Who Has a Potbelly. (Lamba + Udara)

Ganesh with his two consorts, painted by Raja Ravi Varma, from my collection at home

One of his names is Ganapati, the Captain of the Ganas, an army of weirdos that follow Lord Shiva.

For more information about Ganesh, see his Wikipedia entry.

Ganesh's birth festival, Ganapati Chaturthi, is celebrated with a frenzy almost unparalleled in the Hindu pantheon of gods. Media, especially cinema and TV, do not tire, year after year, of depicting the frenzy with song and, dance, often performed under the influence of intoxicants. Each successive year surpasses the previous year in its depiction.

This year, for me at least, who has never stepped out, not only to participate, but even to get a glimpse of these events, brought a slew of shocking and revolting pictures of the aftermath of these celebrations. Some soul decided to circulate these in an email, so I have no means of acknowledging, giving credit, or attributing motives, except to say that it can benumb you, whether or not you are a believer. The email exhorted the reader to circulate them. Here are three of them. If you are aroused to revulsion, introspection, and a sense of feeling stigmatised, maybe the purpose would be served.

Ganesh, Following the Celebrations at His Consecration

Silence

2010-09-20T22:46:00.000+05:30

why so much silence

the moon shines in glory

how to traverse life

when it is already counting

my numbered days

Pipal ki chhaon me

2010-09-20T13:30:00.001+05:30

pipal ki chhaon me

chhota sa hi sahi

ghar ho apna

aur aashaayen naache

baansuri bajaate bajaate

sheltered by a spreading pipal tree

let my home

even if small

be filled with little hopes

which dance to my tuneful flute

Loot. Pillage. Plunder.

2010-09-20T12:56:00.003+05:30

The above is an advertising folder on the desk of my suite in a luxury hotel. The second page contains details of the merchandise being offered by the hotel's own outlet, within its precincts.

I was very disturbed that the first page had only the message shown in the picture above. If the viewer was not curious enough to take a look at the second page, there was no way for him or her to know what the invitation to Loot, Pillage and Plunder referred to.

Thirty or fifty years ago, these three words would not have had the same connotation. One would have attributed them to a clever creative artist of an advertising agency. In today's environment, however, are these words not in very bad taste, if not altogether despicable? I wonder, and ask of every guest visiting me. Am I troubled because I am dated and have become out of synch with the prevailing times?

Life outside, and inside, on your newspapers and other reading materials, and ultimately on TV channels, is already so violent and frightening, with the mayhem prevailing everywhere, that exhortation to engage, even in what is to be assumed to be a humorous tone, in violent activity, merely for the sake of a sales pitch, for selling goods, should be condemned, if not proscribed altogether. And that too, by an international brand name.

That is my question, and in that question is the hope that even as I point this out to the management of my hotel, others, both consumers as well as the vendors and, especially, their advertising agencies, would take note, and be responsible about the use of language and illustration that, given the enormous power of media on social behavioural psychology, can have such a forceful and irrevocable impact.

------------
Update -- Immediately after I posted to my blog, I received this from the head of marketing of the luxury hotel in question, who profusely apologised and, having circulated worldwide new norms for advertising, sent me the proof of the replaced card, with an altered, decent message:

Your agenda for the day

Saturn

2010-09-10T22:29:00.000+05:30

Saturn (Shani in Sanskrit, and Indian astronomy) is 1.2 billion km away from Earth, and has 95 times Earth's mass. While Earth rotates around its own axis in 24 hours, Saturn rotates in 10.67 hours. We call Earth's journey around the sun one year; Saturn's takes 29.5 Earth years. Its gravity is almost the same as Earth's. It has 60 known moons revolving around it, and many clouds of elemental debris.

The following picture was taken by Voyager I, NASA.

The rings which you see in the pictures, when seen from space by powerful telescopes, in close-ups look exactly the same as my picture, which is also published here below; only my picture was taken on my desk. It is strange that otherwise it is indistinguishable from the original close-up of Saturn's rings.

My Life, My Death

2010-09-08T17:53:00.006+05:30

I have lived through storms
they have become my address
my mark will be there
for those who want to find me

I have cried a lot
I have laughed uproariously
the sign of all this
I left floating in the flood
swirling in the whirlpool

I have forgotten
when you passed by me
speeding like monsoon clouds
overflowing like rivers
you filled me with laughter and loving

as quickly as dreams shatter
even when held in caring hands
the deluge drowned my dreams
and carried my traces to distant shores

windblown and lost to me
dear fallen leaves
should the cloudy dreams of your heart
seek me again

I will cry and laugh as I did before
I will ride the tide again
as again I leave my seal on the lightning
and on death itself
where forever you will find me

----------------------
inspired by Salil Chaudhury’s Bengali lyric, which became a very popular, punchy song sung by Hemant Kumar, to Salil Chaudhury’s own musical score

aided by Ms. Bhashwati Sengupta
-----------------------
Update: Anant Maranganti, Ph.D. wrote:

Images match words and all of them blur into a sensual experience whose boundaries are impossible to fix - This is really about life and death, in a universal sense, not about any particular life and death or is it ?

Just for a moment, before I let go of myself, I puzzled over how the imprint of French existentialists of the 1960s could have blended beyond recognition with the early 20th century American transcendentalists into a fiercely Indian sensibility. But then I let go. I am content with the realization that the song belongs to genre of experience that I can shamelessly gulp down - moist, breezy, excited, throbbing like a frog in a rainforest.

I recognize this particular impulse to draw on something from the past as different from other impulses. It is an odd one - it is one of those impulses that helps me feel at once contemporaneous and timeless and forget that grating voice that accuses me of being an imposter in a masquerade.

Thank you for sharing it.
--------------------------
My reply:

Dear Anant:

Your gushing was emotionally as overpowering as the tears of joy and hurt that gushed through the lines I wove. I am very touched, first by your reading my lament–laughter, and then by your mulling it over with such profusion of emotion that now I cannot decide whether my poem is actually not surpassed by your reaction.

Throbbing like a frog which cannot leap, but cannot but dwell only in a rainforest,

Ramesh Gandhi

-----------------------------

Rajinikanth

2010-09-04T15:12:00.001+05:30

Born Maharashtrian in 1949 as Shivaji Rao, currently the ultimate in every department of cinema of South India, which is the ultimate of cinema in India, which is the ultimate of cinema worldwide in quantity; the quality of all of which is not the point here

I saw clips of Rajinikanth's ten greatest films on TV. I doubt any actor anywhere has demanded and received from the audience such complete suspension of disbelief. Rajnikanth deserves kudos. He has dissolved my resistance, and I most willingly hand them to him.

I had several interactions with his brother-in-law, actor Y.G. Mahendra, his mother-in law, Mrs. Y.G. Parthasarthy during discussions or judging of musical theatre or cinema seminars, and his wife, Latha, when she had recently married Rajinikanth, and then when she had her first child, which facts have no consequence now, and are being mentioned only in passing. The main thing is that Rajinikant, in his movies, makes me laugh as he did before; earlier in derision, now in admiration.

I can watch him keenly and be amused now, instead of walking away unbelieving that others could not only watch him again and again, but applauded unstoppably.

Some of Rajini's signature dialogues:

On the lighter side, there are jokes a-plenty among NRIs, especially in the States and UK, on Rajinikanth's film feats. Here is one:

The great scientist Isaac Newton saw Rajinikanth's film. He returned home dejected, wondering if all his laws of physics were wrong. He went back to his laboratory blackboard to re-check his research. He found no error there. So he went to another Rajinikanth movie, and the same thing happened. Finally he was convinced that he was wrong - that the laws which he had founded were in error, since Rajinikanth, in scene after scene, film after film, defied them so convincingly. In despair, he committed suicide. This was followed by mass suicide of thinkers in science and philosophy, for the same reason.

I am sure that there are many such jokes, but they all show admiration for the power of Rajini's performances: it isn't his feats which are in doubt, but Reason itself which is erroneous and challengeable, even if only by one person.

I crossed paths with him in airports in the seventies, when invariably there would be fracas, police, even possible arrest because of his disorderly and callous behaviour. He is much mellowed, and a calm, modest man. He has not allowed his physique to get bloated. Now we exchange glances, and greetings at the most, in late hours at some restaurants. Anyway, I have become fond of him in his autumnal years.

Posterior

2010-09-02T21:55:00.003+05:30

Statue of Mahavir, Shravanabelagola, 1968

... made mysterious by the play of light and shade

Shravanabelagola (Kannada: ಶ್ರವಣಬೆಳಗೊಳ) is a city located in the Hassan district in the Indian state of Karnataka and is 158 km from Bangalore. The statue of Gomateshwara or Bahubali, at Shravanabelagola is one of the most important Jain pilgrim centers. It reached a peak in architectural and sculptural activity under the patronage of Gangas of Talakad.... (from Wikipedia)

The Colour of Terror

2010-08-29T16:58:00.000+05:30

The colour of terror is RED. Tears are colourless.

History of Earth as Written by Man

2010-08-29T14:51:00.000+05:30

Although it has been the feeling of all people at all times, unfortunately or otherwise, WE ACTUALLY ARE living through the most historic times of human life; most determinist, and least tranquil; the only fortunate ones are those who are unaware of it. And the cosmos, to which it would not matter scenically as an event, or audibly, as a whimper.

The purport of this statement and understanding is more evident today than ever before. Although unnecessary or inconsequential amongst larger contingent contexts.

The Universal Question

2010-08-27T21:58:00.001+05:30

There is not, and cannot be, a universal answer; for that matter, it can be reasonably doubted whether, beyond mankind, as we call ourselves, there is any question or answer, let alone the notion of a universe. The tragedy, or comedy, of it all is that it does not even matter whether we feel good or bad about it.
------------------------
Anonymous wrote:

Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.

T S Eliot
I of Four Quartets

Extremely powerful image.
Looks like a pit dark and deep but with a safety hatch for those that have the capacity to cling on despite reality!

Transformation of Charulata

2010-08-25T13:52:00.004+05:30

From Ahmedabad, 1967

To the United States, 1973

--------------------
Was it your best effort or mine?
Bhupen
---------------------
Absolutely and undoubtedly yours, Bhupen. You are the creator and transformer; I only took photographs.
Bhai
--------------------
And the subject herself had no role to play?!!
--------------------
Indeed; without the subject there would not have been a Subject! Her role was to be the Muse; then one transformed and the other merely photographed. Does this satisfy the Muse?
Bhai
--------------------
Me, muse? I think not.

Whose effort, best or not; immeasurable.

Perhaps, mere two points in time, photographed telling-ly, in a process that led to a stage named here, "transformation"

May be, not an acceptable comment; just the same.

charu

Kiss of Dawn

2010-08-25T12:17:00.007+05:30

As my wife foraged through ancient papers and other paraphernalia, she found among things from my childhood, some photographs which I had taken, actually was forced to take, with some friend's box camera. It looks like the photographs have been preserved more than the subject/object material, not to mention the photographer/writer himself.

"Kiss of Dawn" -- Tiger Hill, Darjeeling (1948)

Burmese Pagoda, Eden Gardens, Calcutta (1948)

Gandhi Statue from window of the police chowki,
Juhu, Bombay (1953)

With nostalgia, my wife has written about them on her blog.
--------------------------------------------
Anonymous commented:

Old film title:
Phir Subah Hogi / Dawn will return (morning will come sounds a bit prosaic as title)

Now running as:
Phir Subah Huyi / Dawn has returned

kaali sadiyon key sar sey /
raat ka saaya sarka to
Pal bhar key liye hi sahi
kirnon ka aanchal faila to

The shadow of night has slipped from off the dark ages

The raiment of rays has spread albeit briefly

---------------------------------------------
my response:

Voh subah kabhi na ayegi,
Voh subah KABHI na ayegi.
Sarkar ko pucho; Lok Sabha ko pucho;
Aam janta ko pucho; NDTV aur baaqi saari media ko pucho; Priyanka ko pucho; Amitabh ko pucho; Bipasha ko pucho:

That dawn will never come

Ask the govt, ask the parliament, ask the people, ask media outlets and ask our BIG stars
Kya voh subah kabhi to ayegi?
Nahin ji: voh subah kabhi na ayegi.

Will that dawn ever come?

No sir that dawn will never come.
-----------------------------------------------------
The lines stuck in my mind forever are:

Faqon ki chitaon per jis din insana jalaye jayenge, Jhino ke dahakte dozakh main aramana jalaye jayenge, yeh narka se bhi gandi dunian jab swarga banai jayegi, woh sbaha tabhi to aayegi...

Three tears for Sahir for writing
this verse.

Bhupen
------------------------------------
Michael wrote:

What precious memories, captured so beautifully, from your childhood.

Like so many things related to the Internet, I'm not entirely sure how I wound up here. But I'm so pleased I did. Your photography is stunning.

Frogs

2010-08-24T21:14:00.002+05:30

FRIEND-FROGS, ROMAN-FROGS AND COUNTRY-FROGS;
IN FACT ALL FROGS, REGARDLESS OF CASTE, CREED OR SEX:

LEND ME YOUR EARS,
BUT NONE YOUR LEGS
AND YEARS:

ON BEHALF OF OUR LEADER
WHO LOST HIS LEGS TO THE
GLUTTONY AND AVARICE OF MAN
AND DIED PREMATURELY OF SHOCK

I URGE YOU TO BE VIGILANT
AGAINST THE SCOURGE OF BEING
DECAPITATED AND PICKLED TO DEATH
TICKLING THE PALATE OF THE EFFETE HOMO SAPIENS SNOBS

PENDING EMANCIPATION FROM THIS PESTILENCE
WE MUST UNITE TO GO UNDERGROUND
AND PRACTICE OUR LUSTY GIFT FOR SYNCOPATION
INSTEAD OF IN A CHORUS, PRIVATELY
AND SOUNDLESSLY, IF POSSIBLE

OOOOOOPS! MY LEGS ...

(1973)
--------------------------------
Anonymous commented:

1. The skewed anthropocentric consciousness is first struck by the humour

before realising

2. That rebellion is in the offing
and the clarion call seems to be: non human organisms of the planet unite!

A perfect synthesis too of word and image.

Thank you.
---------------------------------
@NeelaVanam tweeted:

Their croaks well 'antony'ated! Superb.
---------------------------------
@hemantmmehta tweeted:

Nice - A poem about frogs ... OOOPS ...

Rocks Before Being Sculpted...

2010-08-24T14:58:00.002+05:30

... or is this picture also a sculpture?

Mahabalipuram 1978

A. commented:

Rocks ARE sculptures aren't they?
And by what a magnificently creative team of sculptors:

stone
wind
water
and time...

stone submits

wind chisels

water softens

time embellishes

An Open Letter to Prannoy Roy and Barkha Dutt

2010-08-23T15:24:00.003+05:30

Dear Dr. Prannoy Roy and Barkha Dutt:

I have written many serious letters on the subject of the environment to you and to Barkha Dutt, and to your green ambassadors Priyanka Chopra and Bipasha Basu through their websites. (copies attached)

I have yet to receive even a simple acknowledgment of a single one of my letters. I understand that you must receive many letters and emails, of which the majority may be considered unserious, and discarded as frivolous and a waste of time; but I have been a serious and concerned student of the environment for many years, and have written thoughtfully about these issues. At the same time, the environmental initiatives which you have espoused rely heavily on public outreach. If members of the public respond to you and are ignored, what is your accomplishment? Is it merely a show, in which telegenic people stand up, get their pictures taken and then leave for a film shooting?

It wounds me deeply that no one has had the courtesy even to acknowledge my attempts at communication, much less to engage with me on matters of substance which I have raised and on which I have expertise, both moral and scientific.

Some things which come to mind immediately are my Short Story, which was also sent to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, Congress President Sonia Gandhi, Home Minister P. Chidambaram (whom I knew personally before he went into politics), Jayanthi Natarajan (who is a friend0; the Environment and Man, whether climate change can be halted or slowed, Satyameva Jayate. For your convenience, the letters are enclosed here so that you do not have to search for them.

You look and behave like civilised people whom I have respected. Please prove that also. If you do not want to engage, at least have your secretaries send a perfunctory note of acknowledgement.

Agonisingly,
Ramesh Gandhi

Enclosures:
my letter re Satyameva Jayate
my letter re Short Story: Hang the Hangers
my letter re Climate Change / Environment and Man
-------------------------------------------------------------------

(In response to the above, I received a letter from Bhashwati Sengupta. She is an activist working in the fields of education (setting up schools, teacher training, curriculum development), children’s rights, youth counselling, gender sensitization and the rights of marginalised groups, in India and abroad. She is also a poet and a linguist.)

…“Your insistence on being responded to, even if in mere acknowledgement, far from sounding like an eccentric old man's clamour for attention exposes an extremely important flaw in the systems that govern public life in this country. NONE OF THESE SYSTEMS (read individuals who constitute them) CONSIDER THEMSELVES ACCOUNTABLE TO THE PUBLIC.

The vast state machinery, the even more vast multi limbed media, institutions supposedly established to address the concerns of the people and several other bodies that we are forced to deal with on a daily basis, all of whom leave us damaged and bruised at best and completely destroyed at worst... the best of them seem to act and conduct themselves in a vacuum where they can connect with "us the people" selectively and 'photogenetically' to further their own agendas but never ever in a democratic manner where they and the people are on an equal footing, where they must show the courtesy due to the people who populate the land. What makes the relationship even more unequal and unfair is that the populace is unstinting, often going overboard in its acknowledgement of their existence, partly out of simplicity and partly out of forgiveable stupidity.

In that sense this particular letter is like a rap on the knuckle i would translate as, "Acknowledge or else... explain your existence"
And your demand, to my prejudiced (in your favour) understanding seems to be going out on behalf of a vast mass of unacknowledged people, regardless of status and location.
As one of them I thank you.”
----------------------------------------
@edgarhopper tweeted: For me, when I was a magazine publisher, media was business, dedicated to making money to sustain itself. Most media adopt a point of view that they hope will make the business successful. Knowledge, maturity and merit are respected only if they help quite obviously, promote the point of view and the business. Sadly, valuable ideas often kare overlooked or forced to wait for a proper opportunity and climate of opinion. This is a net negative for the media not the content provider. My opinion Accordingly, although once a media person, I castigate them and support you my friend, while you are frustratingly patient!
----------------------------------------
@MatrixKape tweeted: I found your letter to be very well written. Challenges them or shames them to respond to you. Good luck!
---------------------------------------

On 23 August 2010 I received an automatic "read" email from one Gagan Arora on behalf of NDTV. I awaited further response, to no avail, as Arora vanished. I therefore wrote to him today:

Dear Gagan Arora:

My computer gave me a message as below on the date stated. I have this justifiable curiosity, which should not meet with any civilised person's disapproval:

If my message is read, apparently by you on behalf of Prannoy Roy and/or Barkha Dutt, what are you supposed to be doing? Are you not supposed to pass it on, and either tell me that they would respond, or that they are too busy and on their behalf, write a line of comfort or consolation to me for my frayed feelings.

If Prannoy and Barkha are too busy, and I would understand that they are, what is Gagan Arora doing? Is he not supposed to represent them and comfort people, even by an unfeeling, unfelt expression of sentiment and empathy? Please do have this much courage to reply, even if briefly, if you are also as busy as your colleagues/bosses. I hope you will not disappoint in responding to this minuscule expectation.

Baffled,
Ramesh Gandhi
--------------------------
Update: On 22 November 2010, Gagan Arora wrote:

Dear Mr Ramesh Gandhi,
At the onset I would like to apologise for having missed your communication earlier. We greatly appreciate your contribution towards the Green movement. I have forwarded your letters to the team which oversees the Green project at NDTV. They shall get in touch with you in case they require any further information/details.
Warm Regards,
Gagan Arora

Compare: One Piece of Cardboard, One Split End of Hair

2010-08-20T21:07:00.000+05:30

One taken with a 75 year old eye, and one with an electron microscope, enlarged to 1 nanometer.

Roots, or the Paw of a Dinosaur?

2010-08-20T20:34:00.001+05:30

Taj West End, Bangalore 1979

Residence With Attached Kitchen

2010-08-19T21:46:00.001+05:30

Update: Anonymous wrote:
!!!!!
Anything else will be redundant.
Thank you for feeding soul and sense with such exquisite sights.

A Dawn in 1950

2010-08-18T16:49:00.004+05:30

There may be many similarities between dawn then and dawn now, but the dissimilarities are countless, and in some old-fashioned opinions, worthless.

The strength of this picture, as far as I am concerned, lies in my having caught the bird as it took to flight. This lent the picture a momentum: the bird in flight, the fisherman pushing the boat, the sea surging.

Ennore, Tamil Nadu, 1950

Compare: Then and Now

2010-08-17T20:53:00.000+05:30

2010-08-16T17:50:00.000+05:30

A column in New Indian Express, 16 August 2010. Guess whether I looked at the hair, or the skin.

Taj Mahal Hotel, Bombay 1976

2010-08-16T15:54:00.000+05:30

Abstractions of Mind and Thought

2010-08-15T22:22:00.001+05:30

More of Taj

2010-08-15T15:37:00.001+05:30

Taj Mahal hotel, Bombay, mid-80's

To tweet or not to tweet

2010-08-14T20:44:00.001+05:30

Dear Shraddha:

I have been waiting for someone to ask ... "but why do you have to mention your blog and website url every time you write?..." with or without due respect... Thankfully, the question got asked, and now I can offload the answer, which is struggling in me to get out, to be announced and declared. Here goes:

I feel insecure about my relevance to the world my heart throbs in, causes me to breathe in, proving that I live, I exist. Even though tweeting is the least communicative connectivity with my concerns, ideas, and discoveries, which I am unable to live without sharing, I am using this particular medium, that is, tweeting. I will use any means at my disposal for the same purpose. It is only a temporary means through which I can divert the attention of people who might get interested in larger issues of the universe, god or no god, and all the other epistemological concerns arising out of these. In simpler words, I am writing my address again and again out of this compulsion. Whether or not it will eventually succeed is not known; it would eventually enable me not to be part of a medium where I am a complete stranger, dealing with incomplete characters and matters like

"... Hello, Hello, Did you sleep well? I'm exhausted after the day's shoot, Looking forward to watching your movie, You should look forward to watching mine..."

I am not making fun of these people, but I know that I do not belong there, and I know I am not at an age when I can learn to belong.

My knowledge of the Internet being inadequate, without any desire to enhance it, and therefore to put in more effort to grasp it, I suffer from lack of knowledge as to how the message that I tweet would appear on the screen: accidentally, or by someone looking for it. Therefore, to make sure, I remove the ambiguity rather than suffer from doubt, by linking to my sites every time fully.

Finally, I have never been able to consider it possible that what I assume to be my specialty would interest and draw people towards not only listening to me, but fulfilling my obsession by either arguing, acquiescing, or sharing altogether. Therefore, the naive notion that if http://www.rameshgandhi.com keeps getting on the screen, and therefore on the nerves, people might think "Go, take a look at him - get him - and, if necessary, get him out of the system."

Perhaps you will understand, perhaps not. But this is the entire explanation; probably more than you wanted or would like to countenance. So there you are.

Best,
Ramesh Gandhi

Windows

2010-08-12T20:38:00.001+05:30

from inside (1973)

from outside (1989)

Serenity

2010-08-12T15:58:00.001+05:30

silence
stormy winds
whispering urgently
fiercely
that the snow will not renew
that the rivers will dry
that global warming will ignite
and rule

over
bacteria and viruses?

Before, During and After Human Life...

2010-08-12T15:31:00.000+05:30

... these exist

like it or not
in our space and beyond
benign or malignant

in our homes
in our food
in our water

in our washrooms
in our viscera
in our pathology
in our physiology

often even in our dreams
or
nightmares

Homage to a Musical Genius: Kishore Kumar

2010-08-09T20:51:00.000+05:30

Kishore Kumar: picture from here

zindagi ek safar hai suhana
life is a wonderful journey

yahan kal kya ho kisne jaana
no one knows what will happen tomorrow

maut aani hai ayegi ik din
death will befall all of us one day

jaan jaani hai jayegi ik din
the spark will depart one day

aisi baaton se kya ghabrana
why worry about such trivialities

yahan kal kya ho kisne jaana
who knows what the future will be

zindagi ek safar hai suhana
life is a wonderful journey

yahan kal kya ho kisne jaana
no one knows what the future will be

Is it a fatal flaw in human civilisation, that when we find genius we must connect it to madness? Today I am thinking of Kishore Kumar. Examples abound: Goethe, Mozart, Voltaire, Nietzsche, Van Gogh, Howard Hughes, Bobby Fischer; for many, even Hitler.

My problem with understanding what mankind has, over the ages, including currently, recognised as endowed with that special quality which would transcend intellectual and innate creativity, and other virtues without the accompaniment of one or many strains of insanity, has generally remained unqualified for being titled a genius. Believe me, this is not even a complaint. It is just a rumination I am sharing with others who would like to think about it and either share with me this puzzlement or dispel it by throwing light on it by rational explanation. Like even recognition of exceptional merit being endowed generally after the demise of the concerned person, as if true value lies only beyond death, and genius is only if there is creativity, but in the midst of any or all kinds of perversity.

Beyond Freedom

2010-08-07T17:52:00.002+05:30

1981

Beyond Freedom: Fog and Darkness of Uncertainty

Network of Nets

2010-08-07T17:51:00.001+05:30

We are all into it, and part and parcel of it, even as we create our own network of nets. The allure of life comes both with the notion of freedom, and, knowingly or ignorantly, capitulation to losing it.

Is there real freedom? Try any definition; the question, if one ponders and is inclined to go beyond and to comprehend, would be: Is it an absolute? Metaphysically, there is no way the answer can be in the affirmative; very simply, because there is always Beyond Freedom, what? Meaning, is freedom ever unconditional? If yes, then it is an absolute; but is it ever unconditional? Try as one may, the answer is No. Every form of freedom comes with conditions attached. This fact of attached conditions negates the absoluteness of freedom because if freedom comes with conditions, however subtle, however imperceptible, however abstruse, there goes the freedom.

All India Radio had invited me in the 70s to give a talk on Freedom and Beyond. It generated a great deal of argument. Many from among people to whom notions of life, death, and what happens to us in between,are important matters to understand or at least to discuss, engaged themselves, got convinced. Some did not; some who did not, turned away without either agreeing or advancing a counter-argument. If any one of the readers of the foregoing would like to engage me on this, I am willing to give examples of how freedom also is tied up with the maxim "Conditions Apply."

Saving Our Planet: Limitless Vanity of Man

2010-08-06T13:30:00.004+05:30

"... If we all follow these few simple steps, together… we will make a noticeable difference in conserving energy and Saving our planet." (Bipasha Basu, on her blog, Save Our Planet - Together we can!)

Dear Bipasha:

I read your tweet inviting ideas to augment your 11 point blogpost to Save Our Planet. I have spent 50 years or more of my life on researching the subject of survival of our species, and possibly even our planet. All this while I was also searching for the origin of life and its meaning, and whether or not it is innately durable. In this note, however, I will spare you the main part of my research, and deal only with whether or not mankind can prevent its extinction, and, if not, can we at least delay it to gain some more time for rehabilitation, relocating, or whatever, outside of earth, which would doubtless have been altogether depraded, and not capable of supporting not only man, but all other living species. In 1965, at the invitation of the then USIS in Madras, I wrote an introduction on the compatibility and otherwise, between man and his environment, and the imperatives without which the chance of man's survival would definitely be lost. This was taken very seriously, used by scientists in India, published in Europe and America, and discussed widely.

It is unfortunate, though, that to exist, to live day after day, we need props and hope. So, regardless of the unanimity of agreement that my views generated, there was always a wishful "But." "We can, we will, certainly do something." "We have prevailed, and we will prevail. We will find means, modifications in our lifestyle, technology; and if all this fails, we will begin to colonise outer space." "Certainly, we are not transient. We are forever." Etc. etc.

Now, the point is, in the 1960s, given the population of that time, which was probably 6 billion, 2 billion too many for the resources of earth to support and provide for, today the population is 8 billion plus, and increasing. With or without the help of a Copenhagen World Meet, with Obama leading the western civilisation's diktat for lesser consumption by less-developed countries and people, simultaneously waging unwinnable wars which involve enormous consumption; the many and hackneyed sophisms that the conference generated, apart from producing enormous waste of resources on increased flights, and the accompanying madness of desperation to cling to a belief, however irrational.

I can go on and on, and prove to you that even if the population was by some means decimated to half, and measures and regulations put in place for it to remain constant, the most the wounded and emptied, chemically altered Earth could do would be to extend our tenure. But it cannot now revive or regenerate from within itself to be what it was 5000 years ago, or even 500 years ago.

To start with, the premise of reduction of population by half and maintaining it at that level itself is impossible, even with massive massacre, war, pestilence, and other modes of killings. So is the chance of maintaining the current level of population, when man is not only growing its species geometrically, but also puts in every effort to extend longevity of life, even to an age when it cannot serve any purpose, nor is it convenient for the survivor, while the burden on the depleted resources of our home planet that we call Earth increases and changes its natural balance and rhythm irreversibly.

Taking the above-stated facts as given or inalienable, in absence of any provable argument coming from any part of the world, the United Nations, and all its and other such agencies included, can your noble 11-point, sincere effort salvage anything, does it salvage anything even today? Will it salvage anything tomorrow, or the day after? Is anything being saved, protected, reimbursed, restored, within and out of our planet's environment? If not, then we have to stop kidding ourselves. We have to tell ourselves that we, and we alone, have consumed our home, our planet, and now are left with no alternative but to be consumed by whatever drove us to this folly that we have perversely called progress.

I am not sure that you will even begin to read this mail, let alone read it fully and ruminate over it. I will be full of gratitude if only you will at least acknowledge it.

With my best wishes to you in your career, which looks like progressing by leaps and bounds, to continue and help you support yourself without the aid of manmade delusions,

Sincerely,
Ramesh Gandhi

Enclosed: My Introduction to Environment and Man

Environment and Man

A supremely delicate balance in the atmospheric forces pervading the earth resulted in the creation of the living: plant and animal. Through centuries as these conditions changed, plant and animal alike responded by changing their behaviour patterns and supported this fascinatingly complex balance. That was the least that they could do, for those who did not, became obscure or perished.
Man's appearance was a result of no more glorious a cause, nor were the means of his survival any different. However, gifted in addition with imagination and ambition he set out to ensure his survival not merely by responding to the cycles of nature but also by his ingenuity in improvising shelter, barricades and weaponry for his protection against its inclemencies.

Later this ability was to lead him to the inevitable desire to master the forces of his environment and in the process to come to ignore them. Nature could at best be predicted, but could not be made subservient to the sophistications of the civilization man created. In trying to meet the demands of his progress man slowly but unmistakably started disturbing the natural balance. The earth, water and the air which he had taken for granted as solely for his benefit and ravishment fulminated under his constant abuse. Especially in the last decade, his faith in his ability to govern these forces has gradually dwindled to the extent that he is almost convinced that nature cannot be governed, nor be made to adapt to man's needs. He increasingly realises that in the general scheme of things his environment came first and he later, and therefore, he was infinitely more ephemeral.

More than at any other time, he realises now that for survival he has not only to constantly adapt to the dictates of his environs but also not create conditions in which his atmosphere will refuse to support him. Environment which created him threatens to destroy him unless he restores the equilibrium, even at the cost of progress and his quest for knowledge.
The question is, can he and how soon; and if he cannot, how soon the doom.

Spitsville

2010-08-05T16:55:00.001+05:30

There is no way I can pass off the above picture as some remote celestial phenomenon in the offing, or in the throes of perdition. Every Indian, even if he does not know anything about the Constitution, knows his two everlasting rights, one of them being to spit, especially where a sign says precisely not to do so. And not just spit; make an art out of it. Make it even scientific, if you will. The locale, the colour, the contents of the spittle: they are all mastered. The reason why this art form, or sport, is not included in international events like the Olympics, the Asiad, the Commonwealth Games (CWG), etc., is merely because there is no competition to what was undivided India under the British Raj. The current CWG would have had its share in full regalia, had it not been for the fact that it has all but collapsed, and there is no real pleasure in spitting only on debris and broken pieces; broken, incomplete, imperfect constructions. One suggested target can be all of the involved corrupt CWG officials.

The guy who practised his art on my car, which, in humble appreciation, I photographed, and now, through this electronic medium, would put into circulation as far as it can go, as you can see, is not championship material. The bus which overtook our car from the wrong side caused this guy to miss our windshield by miles, and most of his offering fell by the wayside, with an insubstantial portion landing on my window glass. I am not going to carry out a forensic examination of its content, but I can definitely make a guess: betel leaf, 30%; betel nut, 30%; lime, 5%; phlegm, 10%; paan paraag with gutka and other miscellaneous masalas making up the excipients.

I realise that for my contribution I should take a picture at the locations most preferred for spitting: stair landings of offices and apartment buildings; and, of course, the urinals, and what else should I describe. Suffice it to say that, not being a man of honour, I quickly had it washed and cleansed with Dettol. Just like every time that it happens, I have not recovered fully from the dreaded possibility that it might land on some part of my person. On that note, shall we all now go and spit? (I have one confession to make: I do not know how to.)

Update: Anonymous wrote:
PLEASE SIR
i beg of you to start a column in at least The Hindu about this and other fundamental entitlements of all citizens of this nation of incorrect national anthem and false national emblem which ironically claims that truth alone prevails.

your words if they do not educate will at least entertain which is no mean feat in these grievous times.

Paradise

2010-08-04T20:35:00.000+05:30

1983

“Agar firdaus bar ru-e zamin ast, Hami ast o-hami ast o-hami ast”

(If there is paradise on Earth it is this, it is this, it is this)

--Mughal Emperor Jahangir, when he saw Kashmir for the first time
_________________

Paradise Lost

(picture source: news photos)

Incredible India

2010-08-04T13:42:00.000+05:30

(Picture taken in 1968, but the hands are now a billion, and they are larger.)

picture from a BMW ad

(I learned this poem, by Kavi Pradeep from the film Naastik, as a boy)

Dekh tere sansaar ki halat
Kya ho gayi bhagwan
Kitna badal gaya insaan

Suraj na badla
Chand na badla
Na badla aasmaan
Kitna badal gaya insaan
Kitna badal gaya insaan...

Look at the state of your creation:
What has happened, O God?
How much man has changed!

The sun has not changed,
Nor has the moon
Nor the sky,
But how much man has changed,
How much man has changed!

(see the remaining lyrics here)

Awaara Bhanwre

2010-08-03T20:19:00.003+05:30

(1980)

Javed Akhtar wrote a song, Awaara Bhanwre (Vagabond Bees), for Rajiv Menon's film Sapnay (1997)

Update: A. sent this translation of the first stanza:

Awara bhanwre, jo haule haule gaye

Phoolon ke~ tan pe, hawayen sar sarayen

When the wayward bees hum softly

the breeze caresses the flower petals

2010-08-02T18:02:00.000+05:30

Some 11,500 objects larger than 4" are catalogued in low Earth orbit, shown here. Another 10,000 objects are smaller or in higher orbits.

One alarming mishap (among plenty) 500 miles above Siberia was caused by a Russian satellite, but it could have been from any other source. This particular one caused about 2,000 large pieces of the cloud of debris orbiting earth.

Art: Sean McNaughton, NGM Staff Source: NASA Orbital Debris Program Office; National Geographic July 2010

This would for a moment, at least, make us forget about occurrences in space, not only within our solar system, but beyond our Milky Way, and beyond of beyond, trillions of light-years away. What are the chances of collision, catastrophe, and devastation when some of these gravitate towards the earth and smash on its surface (a few such incidents did get wide publicity, but most are classified information and therefore unknown to most of mankind). In one word, simply staggering.

Most of these man-made objects are within the gravitational force of the earth, and therefore circumambulate it countless times in what we call our 24 hour day/night, roughly at a speed of 30,000 miles per hour. Their numbers are growing, both because of the new ones that are sent up, and also because of the ones that break up in space, within the circumference mostly of 9,000 miles. It would be interesting to know the odds which the actuarial science would come up with for the purpose of insuring anything or anybody.

(my photographic simulation)

Crows, Not Ready to Attack or Grab

2010-08-01T14:24:00.002+05:30

Srirangapatna, 1980

This is my homage to R.K. Laxman, whom I met several times in the late seventies. I know that the crows that he has drawn over the years are imbued with his unabashed love for them, while mine are definitely not. His crows are always in motion; what I mean is that they look as though they would snarl, attack, scrounge, and generally outsmart and disconcert mankind. Maybe this did not reflect Laxman's own temperament, but was something that remained essential to him because it was acquired in childhood, when he himself might have been full of mischief; and thereafter, while he grew into a more tranquil being, the crows retained their aggression.

As a child I was very impressed by crows. One of my chores was to throw rotis to them every morning. As soon as I did I would run, because they were so quick, they wouldn't wait until the ghee-smeared roti hit the ground. While I continue to respect the intelligence of these ravens, I have somehow learned to wish them away.

I was therefore smiling as I took pictures of these and other crows, as I had no idea how I managed to make them look docile and tranquilised. One fact remains: I took these pictures to offer them to Laxman, but then the last time I met him was in 1982, at his office, and then lost complete touch with him. As I wish him comfort in his ailments, I also wish that somehow this offering also would come under his scanner.

(Source for R.K. Laxman's crows: R.K. Laxman: The Uncommon Man, by Dr. Dharmendra Bhandari)

Kaleidoscope

2010-07-31T17:24:00.000+05:30

FRAGMENTS
OF MY LIFE
BROKEN BITS
EACH PRIVATE
EACH EXPOSED
SOMEHOW COALESCED
LIKE A KALEIDOSCOPE
FORMING PATTERNS OF PAIN

Devi

2010-07-31T16:39:00.003+05:30

After I took this photograph of the daughter of a friend, I was reminded of the poster that Satyajit Ray designed for his film Devi:

Asteroids waltzing...

2010-07-27T17:23:00.001+05:30

... to the tune of The Blue Danube, two light years away. (Actually, 6" away from my camera.)