srivatsa's photography blog

Up in the skies of another galaxy, In the embers of a setting sun  The sphered ambers of all our past Glowed.  Radiating its golden brilliance. ಅಗಣಿತ ತಾರಾಗಣದ ಒಂದು ನಭದ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ತಲೆಕೆಳಗಾದ ಹಳದಿ ಕುರ್ಚಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ನನ್ನ ವಿವೇಕ  ಕುಳಿತು ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಹೇಗೆ ಬಂದೆನೆಂದು ಅವಾಕ್ಕಾಗಿದೆ This fall,  The leaves of the glass tree Fell on the ground without a crack,  Without a shrill. The overlooking timber is perplexed. ಕೊಳದಲ್ಲಿರುವ ಕುರುಡು ಮೀನೊಂದ ತಾರಾಗಣದಲ್ಲಿರುವ ಹಳದಿ ಕುರ್ಚಿಯ ಕನಸು ಕಾಣುತ್ತಿದೆ. ಕೊಳದ ಅಂಚಲ್ಲಿರುವ ಗಾಜಿನ ಮರಕ್ಕೆ ಬಿಟ್ಟ ಹೂವಿನ ರಸ ಹೀರಲು ತುಡಿಯುತ್ತಿರುವ ದುಂಬಿಯಹಾಗೆ  ನಾನು ವ್ಯವಸ್ಥೆಗೆ ವ್ಯಸನಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದೇನೆ. The eternities, causal entities, ripples of actions Are not so entitled like your mother to think you are the centre Of everything. ಜಾತ್ರೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹಗ್ಗದ ಮೇಲೆ ಜಗವೇ ನಡೆಯುತ್ತಿರುವಾಗ  ನಮ್ಮ ಅಸ್ತಿತ್ವವವೂ ಬರೀ ಪುಗ್ಗೆಯಲ್ಲವೇ?

Home is where you keep your windows open, The doors ajar The plants watered. Home is where the curtains are towels and The other way round. The beds have a distinct smell The smell of all the decades passed by Home is where each square foot of the side wall, ceiling, and the floor have heaps of memories, some squared, some boxed and some unsquared. Home is where you reach it even in a blindfold You still feel the warmth when it is cold, No matter what, home is where we are all Bold. Home is where you have enough spare changes, parched clothes, damped eyes, and clamped memories Home is you, Home is a clean toilet, Home is web cobbed corners And moss covered parapets Allergic carpets And lost pets

One fine day you wake up, You feel hazy and trying to refocus the things around you, The ceiling fan above is missing, so is your spectacles, the bed lamp is gone. There are no clocks in the room, The doors have changed its positions. The view from the balcony is different, But you seem indifferent. Indifferent to the sudden changes, Deferring the inevitable. You don't feel like bringing the things to its natural orders. The external chaos you are ready to embrace is it because of the turmoil inside.? PS: The image was made from the balcony of our home on a crazy evening.  Equipment: Nikon d7200 with 18-140mm lens. Shutter speed in the range of 1/5 to 1/30s(Hand Held) and hundred tries

Death a matter of insignificance, a process just like birth, reproduction: a small event happening in the cosmos until it is a death of your dear ones. It seems like the world is melting, everything is shrinking and the whole mass of imaginary ether pressing your head from above. Eyes get foggy even though the mind has understood what's happened completely. I had to face a rather obvious death couple of months ago, not an immediate kith or kin but yet a very obnoxious emotion clouded over me because of the death. The next few days of a death is intriguing & sad  - both  at the same time. The death remains Insignificant compared to the next few days of rigorous rituals which will help 'sending' the soul to its suitable adobe. A hundred restrictions that have to be followed by the loved ones especially if the dead is survived by a wife alone. And the processes are very very insensitive. There are so many diminutions which kind of constrict your trachea. The emotion