Photography

Himalayan Heights !

Travel Tales, , ,

the Bhaktapur valley

This blog is almost a becoming a travel blog of sorts ! Truth be told, travel inspires me like none else. New sights, people and cultures that are different than the ones that I am familiar with hold a certain intangible temptation that wafts in and stays put.

So much so, several readers write in to ask, if I travel for a living! How I wish. I am indebted to all those readers, for it is that precise question that helped in the hastening of the realisation that my writing flows with ease when I write on my travels. A certain sense of indefatigable urge to share of the places that are looked at with a new set of eyes and hoping perhaps that it could kindle a possible reader to set sights on a new land.

sunset beyond the wavy mountains

To cut all the blah aside, I have been traveling. Work, took me to Nepal. Spectacular sights awaited my packed schedule with such perfect imperfection, that it resulted in perhaps the heaviest sighs mankind has heard.

However, a couple of hours wrenched from nowhere, waking up when the clock struck three and it was still as dark as middle of the night, shivering in the cold, snatching the camera, sipping green tea with perfect strangers and clicking odd pictures brings you this post.

By now you would know, this post is a fact assortment interspersed with some pictures.
the sunrise at Nagarkot ( which deseves far more than a separate post dedicated to it)

Nepal is a rather unique country. For starters, if you are an Indian, you don’t need a passport. A voter ID is enough for the officer at immigrations to wave you in. A lovely country balanced with the most snarl prone roads that makes Mumbai appear juvenile. This snarl prone recklessness despite some outrageously obtuse pricing for cars ( A Santro, I am told costs 18 lakh Nepali Rupees).

They have a 15 minute time difference with India. 15 minutes! Longitudinally speaking I couldn’t piece it together, given that Bengal and Assam that are further to the East, yet maintain IST. But hey, they are a free country and have the freedom to do as their watches will.

If that wasn’t this wasn’t tall enough, well the next difference indeed was. The calendar that’s followed is called Bikram Samwat and by that standard, the current year is 2067 ! While you could be waving in 2011, the Nepal is in 2067 folks!

And the one statistic though that made me not just jump out of a chair, but shoot straight to the moon was that they have 550 + members of parliament. For a country of that size, i imagined having a 100 was a truckload. But i am no geo-politic expert that answers stray questions on national television and fair to say that the Nepalese have their own strong mind.

I must only hasten to submit though that all of the above are empty statistics. The facts that perhaps must hold your attention aren’t really the facts but pictures. Pictures of the great Himalayan peaks as they catch an unfamiliar crimson even while the plains that you stand in are yet to say hello to the sun. And such else.


There is one other ‘fact’ that will keep me going back to Nepal again for sure. (Not counting the fact that the missus has issued an ultimatum that the next trip will be in her grand company, which like every dutiful husband would do : has been agreed to).

That fact..yes the fact… is the people! Ah the people! Absolutely delightful and beautiful people! An accent that drips concern, oozes love coupled with a genuine warmth and that goes the extra mile to lessen the Himalayan chill.

It was enchanting. Plan a trip people. Pristine beauty guaranteed.

Ellora diary !

Travel Tales, , , ,

Straight to the point : The magnificence of Ellora must be seen to be experienced.

Just imagine carving a huge temple out of sheer rock and mountain. Built in the 5th / 6th century ! When there was no 3D animation, double certified architects, safety standards or hopeless bureaucracy in the name of standard operating procedures!

The Kailash Temple. With Hindu Gods and Goddesses. Double the size of the Greek Pantheons.
The entire structure was carved out of one rock. Top down. Over 5-6 generations.
Would you want more proof to believe that we have indeed regressed ?
The ‘Glory Post’. The solidity of the lines, the curves and the majesticity against the blue backdrop.
Indeed a glorious post !

The structure that was created back then, stands the test of time. Till date. There are so many photographs that sit in the confines of the hard disk that ‘a tough time selecting the ones to post’ is a statement reeking of modesty or falsehood or idiocy !

The Ramayana told in sculpted forms. Perhaps the earliest forerunners of cartoon channels !

Amazing is not the word ! What else would you say if the tourist guide almost had to nudge once in 5 minutes to close mouths. Mouths that often veered to a state of perpetual open mouthed gaze !

Buddha and the beauty of the carving ! Blood numbing !

A row of pillars. For decoration rather than support ! Decoration ! hmm !

Egyptian / Chinese images ! Thousands of years ago, the Chinese had landed ! Trade flourished.
How must life have been ?

Just imagine !

Imagine a temple like this 1500 years ago ! Imagine it being built over six generations. With the barest of the tools ! Picture it being revered. Think of it being vandalised by invaders galore. Visualise it being left to be a resting place for shepherds and other grazers to tie their cattle for a couple of centuries ! And then of course becoming a world heritage sight !

A pillar ! With carving.

Now of course tourists gather in hordes. Clicking snaps amidst endless chatter. Some of them loudly giving out their versions of history. Yet others sitting on the laps of ‘Gods’ for photographs on new digital cameras. Yet others running behind other foreign tourists.

A minority just staring in open mouthed awe. The caves don’t seem to care. They seem just grin and bear. They have done so for hundreds of centuries.

Its a must go place people. Aurangabad is a must visit city. Phew.

More coming.

Click power !

Travel Tales, , , ,

Have been away travelling. That explains the silence. Will catch up !

By the way, the Meenakshi temple at Madurai, offers some wonderful sights. Of great architecture. Today, we sit here watching a dozen weddings getting solemnised.

It doesn’t take long to realise that one breed seems to be calling all the shots. They seem to have more power than the high priests and the low grooms ! For everybody is acting at the call of the …….wedding photographer.

‘Slow’ he shouts. And everything slows down. ‘Once more’ he shouts. And dutifully the groom garlands all over again, to ensure that this moment is captured for posterity.

Today, the pillars of this ancient temple reverberates with their command. Add to that, the fact that each marriage seems to be sporting a couple of photographers. Well, you have divine commotion !

The typical scenes play out.

The groom garlands. The bride garlands. The in-laws garland. Suddenly everybody garlands. He clicks every sub event. Sometimes re-clicks sideshows that are carefully re-enacted !

Everybody who is somebody walks in with a gift and upon reaching the bride & groom, freeze like kids playing ‘statue’. Perhaps wanting to extend that moment much longer than the worth of the gift itself ! All captured on camera.


Such sundry stuff, is often punctuated with shooting ‘special effect’ shots. ‘Protait ‘ ( thats the prounciation) shot : Of just the bride. Just the groom. Just the bride and groom. Just the front. Just the back. Just the hands.

Presumably all to be remixed and rolled http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/cipro_generic.html into a big fat album later with a fluorescent spiral binding, which will have images of the bride looking longingly from the grooms palm. And vice-verca. For sure.

Ofcourse, other yogic postures would be present as well. Like the groom feeding the bride. And the bride feeding the groom !

Sitting there, the mind races to wonder what goes on in the minds of such photographers at each wedding. These folks are privy to intimate moments that the bride and groom share, like feeding each other ! Of course, in the presence of everyone who has come there. Perhaps they compare mental notes….

Of the difference in saree colour. The bridal make up. The sullen faces. The dour groom. The relatives who gift and pose for eternity. The jewelery that makes the flash on the camera redundant.


Perhaps they compare the whiteness coefficient of bridal teeth. The rings on the grooms fingers and the kilos of gold that hang from the neck! Perhaps they think of the spice in the food and the length of the decoration.

‘Smile’ He says today. Actually, he thunders. With a start and sputter, the groom lets go a smile. A trifle terrified and knowing fully well, who is in charge !

Perhaps he gets the greatest kick in teaching the first lessons in obedience. To the groom (of course) !!

Ah ! That explains it ! Not too bad for a profession ! hmm.

Pune Residues

Travel Tales, , , , ,
Pune. That was where the car nosed to. The reasons were simple and straightforward.

1. There were kind souls who offered to host. Providing us with bed, food and some love. There needn’t be any other reason.

2. Add in an expressway that’s smooth as silk at Rs.140/- one way, some scenic mountains and blue skies as freebies.

3. To that concoction throw in some ‘huge’ curiosity around Pune and it being spoken of as the ‘culture capital of Maharashtra’ and the like.

4. To that solution, sprinkle some details about the awesome weather.

5. If all that were not enough, look at the long weekend and spending time between fixing a broken computer and a run down body frame !

Of we went. To Pune. And loved every minute of it. And here is the first residue. Residual feelings ! More will follow.

At first look, Pune seems to be kneaded with the fingers of history and baked in the kiln of culture.

The Aga Khan palace stands in majestic stately grandeur, that almost obscures the pieces of history that it holds. Facts of it being a quasi prison for Mahatma Gandhi and the place where he lost his wife gives it a different coat.




Goosebumps pop at frequency of popcorn in a microwave oven, to stand in the very room that must have seen all these events unfold and think of those times. Kastur Ba’s samadhi right there.


Shaniwarwada is the other structure. Magnificent opulence from the 17th century. A building of great magnificence has to be imagined, for whats left is just the periphery wall and and a towering gate !

Its not too difficult for the imagination though. If the ‘compound wall’ is this opulent, the building must sure have been something. To look down at the modern day buses and city bustle through traditional arches was something indeed. And yes. Make no mistake. Look http://pharmacy-no-rx.net down it is !


The sights of the living times are no less awing. This White tiger at the zoo. Majestic in the stride and magnificent in elegance. Emerging from the undergrowth and just standing there, as the pictures clicked. Imposing in the posing. Moving away with an air that will get a bollywood star give her entire nose for. Plastic surgery and all included.

The essence of our love, seems to course in the city’s living. A city that is soothing yet burgeoning. Where, the divide between the yesteryears and the present day visible by the starkness of the difference. Yet, invisible by their seamless merger.

Its a city where tradition doesnt rub shoulders with modernity, but is infact the other shoulder ! Oh yes. Its a city where people are kind and the kinds that are ‘people’, well, very frequent !

We fell in love with the city. Chomping on what ‘German Bakery’ had to offer. Contrasting it only with Maharashtrian thali. Rounding it off with brun-maska, chai and Shrewsbery biscuits.

But there sure is more. Thats the feeling that permeates. Thats the flavour of the residue.

There definitely is more. A certain indescribable portion of the city that is seen, yet hidden. That seems easily describable yet remains elusive. Perhaps it is do with the understatedness in its existence. Perhaps it is do with a way of life that is free of hurried frenzy. Perhaps it is do with its people : gentle and mannered.

Or perhaps it is because of a certain beauty in its midst. The city that is ! The women are covered.


Perhaps protecting the perfect complection and their texture of their tresses, the missus avers. The helmets seem missing though.

More will be figured. Hopefully. For the car will be headed in that direction. There is much to discover. Pune is plain awesome, you see.

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The Powai lake, Mumbai.

People tell me that this was once a secluded picnic spot. Today, it struggles to retain its place amidst all the skyrises and Ganpati idols.

Over time, our lakes have come to see what we can inflict on them.  Anyday, they just emit beauty !

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The tower at the Meenakshi Amman Temple at Madurai. One heck of a tower. One heck of a temple.

Standing for over 400 years, i wonder how many different types of airs the temple would have seen.

And it still is standing.