Nature always teaches me humility. Every part of the natural world is significant and connected. A single grain of sand has endured scores of experience which I can never imagine of! As soon as my brain is enlightened about this fact, all my anxiety goes away.
It was evening. The sun was at the western horizon.
To quote Claude Monet: “To see, we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.”
I walked around the vast serene beach to welcome every scene with an open heart, loosening my control on everything I already understood! I noticed the very small things; the mind perceived them in a very different perspective.
Nature is the best artist.
Ahh! These patterns gave me food for thought.
The following morning presented another set of allusions.
I encountered Life and Death in these washed away objects.
There was no rush to define anything with conclusion.
The small and the ordinary expanded to the infinite and eternal.
Visiting any new city brings out the child within me.
This was a visit to the city of Indore for a medical purpose.
In between the visits to the hospital which was only a kilometre away from the hotel, I could see why Indore got the cleanest city award in India for the sixth time in a row. Well, I had no time to explore beyond this one kilometre stretch as my priority lay in taking care of my family. I could squeeze in only an hour and half to myself ( that is with the camera). And the childlike curiosity encouraged me to chronicle the visual poetry decked in colours, stories, emotions, metaphors and light in a free spirit.
There are times when I feel dejected; nothing seems to be moving forward. Giving up is no solution. Looking around with free spirit can be very inspiring. With this perspective, I found beauty in the ordinary. I was present there with no heavy thoughts or pushing myself unnecessarily.
Throughout the night, it rained heavily. Yet the day smelled fresh with the fragrance of Nature’s beauty.
Zuluk at nightBusy morning
Standing at Thambi viewpoint, a majestic view of the loops became visible for a few minutes. The loops appeared as a serpent laying over a mountain ridge. On the other side the sublime Kanchenjungha stood with all loftiness. It is difficult to spell out the grandeur in words!
Soon the cloud of mists eclipsed the majestic views. Yet the poetry was palpable in the air.
I was transported to centuries ago when caravans of horses commuted these same paths with items of trade like the Chinese silk between Tibet and India. And along with these the intangible things such as cross-cultural wisdom, spirit of Buddhism, inter-regional travel and exchange of humanity traversed for hundreds of years.
Sea of clouds 1Sea of Clouds 2Sea of Clouds 3
Moving further, a fantasy of white mist waves started weaving an inconceivable magic for the eyes.
Men and women work hard to maintain the road. The endless silence and miles of greenery wrap up the valley.
Silk route 1Silk route 2
The valley witnessed a riot of colours. Flowers of bright hue bloomed.
Is it the silent garden that they talked about! Here I could hear the music of my heart that remained buried for so long.
The lone yak seemed to witness the history of the route!
The witnesKanchenjungha 3Music of Earth 1
I could hear the dreams in this tranquil atmosphere.
Music of Earth 2Music of Earth 3Space, Time, Emotion
2021 has been more or less the continuation of the last year 2020. For me these two years have been the time of contemplation and introspection. I have been thinking more about the physical perishable body and the eternal soul; the experience has taught me to be aware of the darkness within me. In these difficult times in life, it’s important to step back and see that there is always some light or hope. We all have stories; either vibrating with overwhelming emotions or nullified with void. The internal monologue with the mind allows me the space to rebuild narratives or weave songs from the stories unfolding in the alleys of Kolkata; adding colours to the shadows or fictionalising the reality. There is magic in the prosaic, there is awe in the monotony and there is divinity in the earthly. These ‘songs’ enrich my mundane life with evocative music. These photographs are the representation of the journey of life: beginning with the newborn to be taken care of; the supervision( metaphorical eyes) or the eyes of the society; carrying the load of expectations; the prayer to be with the divine or to be free from the shackles of the societal norms!
Phugtal Monastery, 2500+ years old Lungnak Valley, Zanskar; reached only by foot Altitude: 3800 metres above sea level (Approx.)
The trek to the majestic Phugtal Monastery has been one of my toughest journeys. I feel privileged and fortunate to have embarked on this surreal experience! The trek meanders through the most beautiful deserted landscape which itself has myriad facets. The colours are thrown here and there; one has to gather them through mind’s eyes. Today as I write down my experience, I am re-living my journey. We were only a few travellers throughout the trek. The surreal calmness of the land infuses deep philosophical questions about life and death. The journey becomes a meditation.
The Tsarap Chu river is the constant companion. The turquoise water soothes my ever anxious mind. Slowly the tranquility touches my soul.
The trek has not been an easy one. It throws up challenges. One feels breathlessness while moving just a few steps upwards. On the one hand there is dynamism of life, and on the other there is stillness of death. Birth and Death are passages of Time. Birth is a constant uncertainty; the only certainty is Death. Therefore, I must respect every breath in order to embrace death gracefully.
Am I not wearing the mask of the persona constantly trying to create a socially acceptable identity! I look around to see the magic of light. Let me tread gently on this land.
The path is not smooth. The struggle is real. The kind lamas help me get up on my feet.
The stones and rocks have colours too. The magnanimity of the scale has the terrible beauty.
Ahh! Finally the bridge is in sight.
The mules and donkeys are the only carriers available here.
The honeycomb monastery hangs on the cliff. The sight is jaw-dropping! I have made it finally. A long gratifying smile fills up my face.
This is the Cave of Liberation!
It is Sunday, the monastic school is closed. There is some time for digital entertainment. Yes, the digits 0,1,0,1 continue!
Sitting in front of the beautiful, vibrant waters of Tso Moriri for hours witnessing the different colours of the lake with the slightest change of sunlight braving the biting cold wind has been a spiritual experience. The water birds danced and played in the lake fearlessly. All the anxiety, uncertainties, fear, breathlessness that the last few months engulfed my life seem to melt down into this mountain lake.
I realize in the words of Eliot “What we call the beginning is often the end And to make and end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
The canine friend seems to guide me into the lives of the the village dwellers around the lake. I explore the village, the nomads and make images that my soul tells me to. The self submerges into the place and the faces. My perception and philosophy of life gain clarity.
“We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.” T.S.Eliot
“Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!” — William Butler Yeats
The specific complex emotion that I encounter on seeing the Mighty Himalayas from the flight to Leh and back to Delhi is ‘ the sublime’. As the Plains and Lesser Himalayas of Dhauladhar and the Pir Panjals give way to the Great Himalayas, the glaciers, the endless spires of the peaks, the Trans Himalayan Plateau, the Tso Moriri Lake, the Zanskar Range …. the physical landscape immerses within me. Unknowingly this hour long flight of fantasy transcends into the ambrosial hour of meditation. The ocean of thousands of Spires rushes in the dynamic range of emotions ; fear as well as strange calmness, joy and excitement, mystery and reverence. I think of the ancient times when the Rishis crossed these formidable ranges on foot! The small window of the aircraft provided me the opportunity to embrace the grandeur of the Himalayas with folded hands. I close my eyes to chant:
Asatoma Sad-Gamaya
Tamaso Maa Jyotir-Gamaya
Mrytyor-Maa Amritam Gamaya
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantihi
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantihi
Lead me from the untruth to the Truth.Lead me from darkness to light.Lead me from death to immortalityOm Peace Peace Peace.
At some point of time, dark thoughts engulfed me… almost pushed me to the edge. I felt claustrophobic, dejected, anguished, betrayed, entrapped and lost amidst the cacophony of life. I floated in darkness trying desperately to find the ray of hope. There are darkness in life and there are light too. In the depths of misery there is still calmness, harmony, light, love and hope.
“There was a happy time I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.”
Maya Angelou, Phenomenal woman
“This storm is you. Something inside you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time.”
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
“I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air”
Lord Byron, Darkness
“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.”
Maya Angelou, Caged Bird
“I dreamed you were a poem, I say, a poem I wanted to show someone . . .”
Adrienne Rich, Twenty one Love Poems(Poem II)
“The spent sun passes out beneath an arch, and, shroudlike, stretched from the antipodes, —hear it, O hear, love!—soft night marches in.”
Charles Baudelaire, Meditation
“We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.”
Paul Laurence Dunbar, We Wear the Mask
“BATTER my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.”
John Donne, Holy Sonnets
“You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.”
Maya Angelou, Still I Rise
“This is my delight, Thus to wait and watch at the wayside Where shadow chases light And the rain comes in the wake of the summer. “ ⦁ Rabindranath Tagore “ Where shadow chases light”
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
Krishna Goswami 