Fireflies..

Fireflies taught me kindness. Memories are kind of similar. It is like a jar of kindness. Fireflies are memories.

Our need to cling on to memories of the night, memories of childhood, memories of love, perhaps give me urge to hold the firefly gently between two palms of my hand as if to witness the rhythm, the oscillation between my darkness and joy in the belly of the firefly. He came through window of my study and landed straight into my hands after going around few times over the tiny oil lamp. From the gap in between my fingers, I watch him glow. He doesn’t move much, his tiny feet gives me a tingling sensation. It’s now embedded in my heart. It’s a feeling of trust. I open my palms, he leaps into the air. He then sits on the windowsill as if to say now that I’ve given you memories, your debt is up by one and you would repay each one you add. As I watch him leave, he parts me with the wisdom of letting go of the one that you hold dear to, he taught me to appreciate their beauty, their soul and enjoy the moments of togetherness till it lasts. Thereafter, all that is left with me is that tingling sensation. It is a sensation of joy. It is sensation of kindness. It is a sensation of love.

Do fireflies hold our collective memory?

To all the women…

For all the struggle against prejudices and judgments/

for all the sweat, blood and pain/

for all the resilience, love and compassion/ 

for determination, courage and strength/ 

You made a life of your own/

caring less of whims and fancies/

They try to put a label on you/ 

you brush it off as dust/

on your jeans that laughs/ 

at those/

who wronged you/ 

for choices

that’s only your own/

You rise beyond purity and shame/

you fall in love to get hurt/

and rise to fall in love again/

You swallow some pain/

some you display/

courage is not enough a word here/

you push it through as you have been doing since ages/

You are not a mother, a sister, a wife or a lover/

You are who you are/

and you’ve made it, this far

for a life still to come again!

Happy Women’s Day!

How not to photograph a lighthouse

Life’s quest does not start or end with finding a lighthouse. On the contrary, it start with holding hand. Mother’s hand. The touch that feels safe and reassuring that I am there to hold you if you fall.

With that trust, you took your first step. The water is not scary anymore. That instilled a confidence, you carried on. You dared obstacles, danced before it, challenged it and jumped over it. All of it have started with that first step, tightly holding your mother’s hand you took a leap of faith. We always had a lighthouse from the very beginning. Tallest in the crowd, always beaming, always cheering, saying “come… come… this way..” and you would find your path.

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The Magi

Gifts come in any form and from anywhere. It can take the form of divine blessings or humble chickpea chaat! Three wise men came to meet infant Jesus with gold, frankincense and myrrh. Does God really need gifts or is it the manifestation of desire of wanting to be loved? Is it the doer who gets the more pleasure than the receiver? I don’t have all the answers.

A morning cup of tea made by your lover just before you wake up… A quite evening in company of a dear friend… Someone suddenly opening up, trusting you, being vulnerable showing the wounds that time had failed to heal… A touch of a friend’s hand on the shoulder when life crushes you down… That stranger on a motorcycle giving you a lift home on a cold rainy night… A smile on the face of a friend seeing you after a long time… Putting up with all your annoyance, stubbornness and whining…

In Hindu mythology there are countless Gods and Goddesses, almost all of them have more than two hands. As if you cannot accommodate all the gifts you wish to give or receive with just two hands. I don’t know about Gods and Goddesses or gold, frankincense and myrrh. But in my life I have seen many wise ones. They are all my Magi.

Pink City

In the year 2019 Priyanka Chopra Jonas starred and co-produced a film ‘The Sky is Pink’. Don’t know about the sky but the mood was certainly Pink that day. Wong Kar-wai would have made second installment of In the Mood for Love. Anyway these series of photographs are my love letter to the people and the city of Baruipur, a small town in Eastern India, where I had spent my childhood. People of Bengal in autumn of every year, flock together to celebrate homecoming of their daughter, Uma and her children. She is their Daughter and she is their Mother. The circle of life…

3 Princesses

Reds, blues and yellows or gold. Liquid gold mingling in dark lake water gently kisses the neck of the Night Princess. Hues do have gestures. Like faces it reveals, hides, coaxes, cajoles, helps you peel just one more layer underneath. And You were there. Curious, confident, carefree and oblivious. The concocted story I try to weave here falls apart in presence of your grace. The truth is, in the transient moment that passed between us, we remained as silhouettes…

Portrait Series 2

There is a saying that Impossible says I’m possible. But sometimes¬†…. Enter Ramesh. He is the guy to look up to when your every resource fails. A simple man who speaks from his heart and doesn’t hold anything back. He always tells his two kids to dream.

Portrait Series 1

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My friend Abhinav came for a family photo session few days back. Simple background helps a lot to bring out the character in a Portrait. She was a little shy during the shoot. This shot, i think, says something about her.

Avinash

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Avinash is a Short Put athlete. I took this shot in white seamless background in my makeshift home studio. The open airy feel complements his persona.