Where the day flows



Who can say where the road goes
Where the day flows, only time
And who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose, only time

Only Time by Enya

A rather old photograph – 2, or perhaps, even 3 years – taken while riding a rickshaw somewhere in North Campus, Delhi University. I don’t remember much from the day, but I do remember that reaching college was a mammoth task for it rained cats and dogs and horses and elephants.

Photograph taken with an old Nokia cellphone.


More from the Zoo

Last month, I blogged about my visit to the Delhi Zoo here, here, and here.

I was accompanied on the trip by my dear friend Sandipon of Half Light Praxis who also managed to capture some rather interesting moments. Like this fellow here:

Young Giraffe at the Zoo by SandiCo

Do check out more photographs from our visit to the zoo here.

2 am


“It was our personal triumph. We had achieved something no one could. We could create so perfect an illusion of physical togetherness that sometimes the real thing fell short of it.”


Note 1: Post-processing in Picasa (I don’t know how to use anything else).

Note 2: The quote comes out of a little write-up I wrote at 2 a.m. tonight. Hence the title.


I made a short trip to Rajasthan for a cousin’s wedding, or rather, I was forced to by my parents, and dragged along unwillingly. Now, initially, I was thinking about doing something special for my hundredth post, but then I saw this and knew immediately that nothing I can come up with will beat these smiling faces I encountered in Rajasthan.

Presenting, very Happy #100 to FPP.

Thank you all for sticking around, for making this blog what it is and for being forever kind. I will try to be regular and to not disappoint you. If you have suggestions, brickbats, or just want to say hi, drop me a line at the listed e-mail address. See you around. 🙂



His name is Eklavya: he is four and just by the way he looks at you, you know he is going to grow up to be a poet.  He told me he cannot sleep; not during the day, not at night. He told me he hardly sleeps and then he asked me if I can teach him how to. I told him to play video-games. I wish I could have told him to write poetry, but then again, maybe he does. Maybe, that’s what keeps him awake.