All posts filed under: The Walk

It started with one walk long time ago. And I have walked so much, daily, one day at a time that out of many did lead to taking my breath, literally away. And alike many other that has kept making me scribble each night in naked white pages kept in the pockets. In which ever city, town, village, capital I had been, I have made it a point to map it, in ways that you start learning from unemployed young locals, or people you meet at a joint, or around a local professional tea maker.
Walks, For many years depended on architecture. Or fields, or rather from information, or walking to find skilled either informed human. The older the one, structure or man, the easier to go closer, or lonely and green. Walking, like straying for as long a stretch as It can be made possible is a very personal experience. Its like that compound interest that builds your silence into strength. A very unconscious practise. And the farther you walk, there is no doubt that there will be one day you will start feeling of only reaching towards thyself.

One night in Rajasthan

  Only at nights, i felt this tree could talk. Camels are still out grazing somewhere, but rains haven’t come this season. There is not much to eat anywhere for cattle. Himmat(strength) Singh fell ill, and didn’t eat for a month. He was dying when Gaja(elephant) Singh(his owner) brought Himmat Singh under this tree. Always tied. He still wasn’t eating but people said he will be fine now when he is tied. I never saw him sitting. Khuri | Jaisalmer | 2014 Advertisements

Where the Children Go

Among themselves they feel free. Independent yet in a boundary, vulnerable and not sure about tomorrow. Kids are those whom, while you watch them in your most baleful of moods they still make you smile. The essential human truth, pitted against modernity – is invincible. There is a child in a man wanting to go back to the womb. The shadows of a festering burden of the next crop of humans, the unclaimed, unborn, and the just born. The Indian state perceives the child parent relationship to be a legacy of tribute to a social order, more than a right of the child. When a child is separated from his/her parent, it is not viewed as the duty of the state to provide that child with a family environment. Adoption is supervised by the state, but India does not have a long term foster care or alternate care system outside of institutionalization. A study estimates that there are about 44 million destitute children and yet only 5000 are adopted each year. A countless number of …

Song of the playground

Photograph of the lost memory in flaring heat of Jaisalmer It is hot in Barmer. My right cheek has swelled. Ulcers recognized heat. I am staying with amma here, a Bhopa. Last night we decided to attend Pabu ki phad. Happens rarely now. A local god. Reincarnation of Laksman. Bhopas sing and dance for Pabu. For two nights Bhopas from all across the region had come to sing and dance reciting Pabu’s story. Anada Ram was the most prolific Ravanhatta musician. He died 33 years ago. His wife, Amma never sang after that. I am here to document her son. He never learnt Ravanhatta. He wanted to be a dancer. I have known him for eight months now. There were many other dancers from the community yesterday. Veer was going to show me one of his acts dancing on the mirror glass with fire in his mouth. He does not dance in the community. He is ashamed. I was awed last night. So were six hundred people. He got cut but still kept dancing. His …

MUND NADI

This bad sketch was made a week ago together on very long bus rides after entering back to Indian Bihar in Raxaul from Nepall Bihar Birganj to Sugauli. A 10 hour lazy train from sugauli to gorakhpur at night. Some parts in a bus from Gorakhpur to Faizabad, from there to Kesarbagh in Lucknow and then 16 hour bus ride where shukla jee was the driver and himself he was the conductor. He made sure all the passengers eat the best samosa with kacche aam ki chatni, Kachaori poori Sabzi, chai, Petha, oranges on various stops, though he didn’t care much where we eat our food. On a Sunday he recited Hanuman Katha and Chalisa twenty times half an hour long- less in afternoon most in the night so as no body sleeps and if they do Ram and Hanuman should always be around them. On a two week journey to Nepal starting from not so interesting Pokhra to Muglin and the beautiful Manakaamna temple and later all seven days given to Gadhimai mela where …

Walking in Varanasi

– All say i have gone on my mother, slanting slope with a dead end like nose, high cheekbones, eyes watching from a socket, paler complexion. Today when i lied beside her listening, i saw a few lines sketched around her lips, tight forehead, intense she looked, and looked old. I leave for Kashmir the day after for a month and wanted to post this write-up which i wrote six months ago on the ghats of Benaras. I am drunk tonight. … Holi city, indeed Crowded by boredom Of new and the old Japanese is written on the walls, Telugu, Gujrati, Hindi, Marwari and deity of the falling doll, Walls are tall as lanes are narrow concluding steps Going towards the flow Ganga looks like one today The sun is shining on the polluted dark A bark flows with the river, with a free body, swelled liked a shapeless balloon Him, crows are murdering more. But the noon is calmer here, they say, river trudges up from there background chantings and prayers from sound systems …