Sunday, March 2, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
evading evil eye
Captured this one on the streets of Bangalore. Nimbu-Mirchi garland (lime-chilli) consists of several green chillies strung together with a yellow lime at the bottom or the middle. It is believed that this will repel envious looks. Lumix fz200, f2.5
life@thebackyard
As usual, when I was about to call it a day..this photograph happened. This is not the first time it is happening, very often the best happens at an unexpected time, in an unexpected way. Be patient. Never give up. lumix fz200, iso 400, f2.5, flash on
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
I went to the St.George's saw mill near by for a plank of wood and captured this photograph...What could be their stories....
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.
A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.
A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.
When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.
A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.
So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
― Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte
Monday, February 3, 2014
A morning walk at the New woodlands hotel, Dr. Radhakrishnan street, Chennai
This was my first trip to Chennai city during the past few years, hence decided to stay at a familiar hotel. They have renovated the rooms, and at the same time maintained the greenery in the compound. This motivated me to get up early the next day, and venture out. Here are some clicks of the Chennai dawn. This time Chennai looked much cleaner than what it appeared to me during my previous visits.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Friday, January 31, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Kingfisher
Nine-tenths of tactics are certain, and taught in books: but the irrational tenth is like the kingfisher flashing across the pool, and that is the test of generals.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Abandoned
“What I really love about them... is the fact that they contain someone's personal history...I find myself wondering about their lives. I can never look at a garment... without thinking about the woman who owned it. How old was she? Did she work? Was she married? Was she happy?... I look at these exquisite shoes, and I imagine the woman who owned them rising out of them or kissing someone...I look at a little hat like this, I lift up the veil, and I try to imagine the face beneath it... When you buy a piece of vintage clothing you're not just buying the fabric and thread - you're buying a piece of someone's past.”
― Isabel Wolff, A Vintage Affair
“My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.” ― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
Marine drive is the place to watch beautiful sunsets. This photo was done a couple of months back, towards the fag end of the monsoon, so some traces of the clouds were still present adding some texture to the sky. Canon 550D, Tokina wide angle.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
“...dusk is the time when men whisper of matters about which they remain silent in the full light of the sun.” ― Simon Raven
This is one of those serious attempts of mine with a canon on a tripod, with slow shutter speed at the Marine drive Kochi, which is very near our backyard.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Our father in heaven.....
This is the edappally St.George's church, which is very close to the backyard. They have an English mass at 4.30 pm, every Sunday.
“Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities".” ― James Fredericks
Clicked this photograph during one of those solo walks through the paddy fields behind my brother's home at Thrissur. Canon 550D.
Friday, January 24, 2014
If I can put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any man orwoman, I shall feel that I have worked with God. Gilbert K. Chesterton
A beautiful sunset near the backyard. Canon 550d, tokina
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Dimple the chameleon @thebackyard
Today is the second time I came across this chameleon @thebackyard. She emerged from somewhere by around the sunset time, and posed for some photographs. This is the first one of the set of photographs I clicked with the Canon 550D, and the 300mm lens. After this one, I clicked the rest with the lumix fz200, which has a more powerful zoom at 600mm. Will post those photographs clicked with the lumix later. Whenever I am at the backyard, I started searching for this chameleon, and today I named her Dimple :-), hoping to meet her again..
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
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