Karva Chauth

Yesterday, married Hindu women from North India observed a strict fast (no food or water until the sighting of the moon) praying for the longevity of their husbands’ lives. I took to the roof to get some shots of the moon, but after playing hide-and-seek for a good half hour the moon chose to continue hiding under cloud cover. Thankfully, the women saw a dull blurred moon and that was enough to conclude their fast.

Personally, I don’t believe in it. I enjoy the rituals for their social significance but fasting never made sense to me. I believe in food, in eating it.

Nevertheless, a Happy Karva Chauth to everyone. 🙂

 

‘Summer’s lease hath all too short a date’

 “A little while, their hunger unfulfilled,
The mothlike worlds flit ’round the guttering sun.
(“Ephemera”)”

― George Sterling, The Thirst of Satan: Poems of Fantasy and Terror

Waterfall

You can’t trust water: Even a straight stick turns crooked in it.

– W C Fields

As piercing showers hit your pretty

face, replacing pretentious smile with

crooked obscenities, the ensconcing

veil was lifted and naked truth glintzed,

across the surface of tiny rivulets

flowing down your slender neck.

Creed

“This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must have the courage to let them come and go. That I will never let mankind put anything over me, but that I will try always to recognize and submit to the gods in me and the gods in other men and women. There is my creed.”
― D. H. Lawrence

My experiments with Fire

Ye ishq nahin aasaan, bas itna samajh leeje

Ik aag ka dariya hai aur doob ke jaana hai

– Ghalib

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These photos are the result of a bored evening at home. They are straight out of the camera (Picmarkr was used for watermarking, but apart from that, no post-processing was involved). Also, I chose not to include a translation for Ghalib’s couplet for no translation can ever match the original.

So, which one is your favorite? Let me know! 🙂

Delirium

A deified gulp

The sin?
My name.

In the name they Sin
and sing
of the Sins they Sing,
and
erase many a men;

base rats rule the world,
cutthroats revered,
deep cuts and rum tins?

A mark of intrepid pretense
while death –
the reward.

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Lest this post strike you as perhaps a tad abstract, let me take this opportunity to apologise for I find myself gripped firmly in the talons of an existential crisis and this is the most sensible thing to come out of the camera as well as my pen. Oh, and in case you’re wondering what that light is, it’s the flash from my Nokia E-5. This photograph has not been edited at all, not even the slightest bit. No, nada, nil. Zilch.