Friday, March 22, 2013

Travel Tale | The Angry Earth

Photo Blog: Death valley National Park


As we drove through the endless roads, laid flat over the barren, rugged surface of earth.. through dramatic clouds and ever changing vast mountains, little did we know that this would be one the most unforgettable road trip of a lifetime. Tomesha - A journey through the ground afire.


Much has already been told about America's hottest, lowest and perhaps the strangest place, the desert - where dust can turn a day into twilight, and rocks move unseen across the landscape. We were out to experience it, all for ourselves. 
By the time we entered the gates of the National Park, the topography had changed. It was hard to keep to the trails. The winding roads much steeper and difficult now, to drive on. Grabbing a map from the vistor center, we started our journey for the highest point of the valley - Dante's View.

My heart was drumming against my chest. The silence unbearable. I could have never imagined that such a vast stretch of barren - nothingness could look so breathtaking. Serene was an understatement here. All I could feel was the whistling of winds, as it crashed against the far away mountains and came hurdling back. As I looked down into the valley, 282 feet below sea level, the Badwater Basin, I could see meandering streams of salt water flats, now dried and shimmering in the sun. The sheer wonder of nature and geological significance of the landscape sent chills down my spine. 
The wind did too.




The wilderness of this land, runs in extreme contrasts. From the bone-dry badlands of the Devils golf course to the twisted and eroded ranges of Zabriskie Point. The unbelievable vastness of the Ubehebe craters, its depth and its surreal outstretch. We scored it all. We drove a mile into the mud, unpaved road creating storms of dirt and spurring stones, to reach the natural arches. We walked on, as the huge Mosaic canyons attempted to engulf us. Our car rumbled on, into this wide open space, as one of the oldest cities of Rhyolite, now in ruins began to emerge out of this brutally beautiful wasteland. The forgotten tales of Goldrush felt like a mirage set amongst the desert haze. A land of eerie, a land now taken over by nature, sprawled Joshua trees and an uncanny silence.

"Can you picture what will be, so limitless and free, desperately in need of some strangers hand. In a desperate land"  - The doors





Yes, "This is the end, beautiful friend" We moved towards the setting sun, the sky now blazing with color. Our last destination, barely visible through windblown sand, the Panamint Range looming over the Mesquite Flat dunes. The moving sand here takes in everything without a word.



Death Valley never leaves you.

Once you have heard the howling wind, laid footprints on the warm sand, wandered aimless in the ruins of ghost towns, caught a flaming red sunset and let the moon follow you home, you just want to go back and do it all over again.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Not another love story

Letting go.

The wooden bench was moist from the early morning showers. She sat, watching, as the sun came up over the ceaseless blue blue ocean. The depth of the waters - the calm of the waves, the peace.. the serene.. the light breeze playing with her curls.. setting of a perfect morning, but the void inside was deafening her. She could not decipher what exactly was it that she was feeling. Was it the loss? Remorse. Was it guilt? Did she feel responsible for letting him go? Yet, nothing mattered now.  Nothing she did now would get him back. Time has its own way of healing. She only hoped it would.

The moment: It was a usual day at work. Over a coffee break and some unrelated conversations, the news came up. It was an incident that happened over two years back. The resemblance, the details, the coincidence - all too overwhelming. It was disbelief at first, slowly turning into prayers. With the floor splitting beneath her, she reached the corner of the desk and sat down. Over hours, she scanned viscously through articles, accident reports, newspapers.. anything that could give her more details, something to confirm - confirm that it was just a story. 

August 12, 2008. Time had stopped. It was official. 

The Blackhole: The night was sleepless. Hysterical, she searched through all her belongings, desperate to hold on to the last link, conversations, photographs, letters, memories.. she had once so carefully removed. She chalked the timeline in her head, and there it was - she had absolutely nothing, that could take her back to him. His existence was a complete blackhole - a void, now all too real.
She always thought it was only mature, to move on.

The Drift: She held his hand. She didn't need to pretend. He was a good friend, he was too close. He had been there whenever she needed him and now she needed to be away. He understood. Staying close would only hurt him more. She owed him a lot. Most of all - the truth. She was not in love. They remembered their days together, the fun days, mad days, hectic days and the sad ones. They have always heard each other out, helped each other fight back up, when in doubt. "I'll find you a girlfriend" she promised. She didn't. And she never realized, when it was too late, when it got a little awkward to contact him after so many years. He must be having a great life, she believed.

That life had ended, and she never knew. 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Every window on Alcatraz has a view of San Francisco

In the parallel universe, the laws of physics are suspended. 
What goes up does not necessarily come down, a body at rest does not tend to stay at rest, and not every action can be counted on to provoke an equal and opposite reaction. 
Time, too, is different. It may run in circles, flow backward, skip about from now to then. The very arrangement of molecules is fluid. Tables can be clocks, faces, flowers.
These are facts you find out later, though.
Another odd feature of the parallel universe is that although it is invisible from this side, once you are in it you can easily see the world you came from. 
Sometimes the world you came from looks huge & menacing, quivering like a vast pile of jelly, at other times it is miniaturized and alluring, a-spin and shining in its orbit. Either way, it can't be discounted.
Every window on Alcatraz has a view of San Francisco.
                                                                                                               - Girl Interrupted

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Toast for a Fruity Summer



Monday, May 14, 2012

Dil, akhir tu kyun rota hain?

Jab jab dard ka badal chaya.. Jab ghum ka saaya lehraya
Jab aansu palkon tak aaya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
Hum ne dil ko yeh samjhaya, Dil akhir tu kyun rota hain?
Duniya mein yuhi hota hain-

Yeh jo gehrein sannate hain.. Waqt ne sab ko hi baate hain
Thoda ghum hain sabka kissa
thodi dhup hain sakba hissa
Aankh teri bekar hi namm hain,
Har pal ek naya mausam hain -
Kyun tu aise pal khota hain - Dil, akhir tu kyun rota hain?

Friday, April 6, 2012

Eyes on Fire

Fume and smoke almost never lifts its veil here.. the far stretched rugged landscape unites with the beige and brown mud township, any other color here seems to stand out hurting the eye. Its impossible for someone who doesn’t live here to find anything at all in this maze.. Luckily however for him, the long wait was finally over, she was granted the permission to meet him. Was this the moment of truth? He followed the crowd, heart pacing..

17 long years ago, in Nasir bagh refugee camp, Pakistan, he spotted her in the sea of tents. 
"Inside the school tent he noticed her first. Sensing her shyness, he approached her last. She told him he could take her picture"
Since that day, her hauntingly beautiful green-eyes have captivated the world.
Yet, she had no name. No one knew her story, not even him.


As they wait in the courtyard, a woman comes out of the house, with a baby in her arms. Alam bibi – the girl of the world, so rightly resembled the photograph in his hands that it was uncanny. However the eyes lacked that blaze. Eye color may change in very rare situations. He was hopeful. When his research team confirmed that this was not the woman he was looking for, he sank into despair again. How would he be able to find her? In a place where lives change with the shift of sand.. How would he know if the little girl has even made it into womanhood?

While walking through the Nasir bagh cemetery, passing through thousands of unmarked graves, he decides to continue his search and see the end of this. New leads take him back to Afghanistan, to the mountains of Tora Bora. Sharbat Gula, a woman now a mother of 3 children is said to perfectly match the description of the girl he is looking for. “She remembers the day the photograph was taken” she says.. pointing at the red shawl wrapped around her head that got burnt. The reunion between the blazing green eyes and the photographer was quiet. She must not look - and certainly not smile at a man who is not her husband. She did not smile at him.
"Her expression was flat. She cannot understand how her picture has touched so many. She does not know the power of those eyes"
The face that has inspired so many to give now has a voice.
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This is the story of the famous “Afghan Girl” who made it to the cover of the National Geographic Magazine” in 1985 with her fiery eyes. Taken by photographer Steve McCurry. http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2002/04/afghan-girl/index-text/1

Heres the documentary that made me cry profusely and promises to touch everyone too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQyTgIWQbiU&feature=relmfu

Monday, March 19, 2012

New Spring Palette

As winters arrived, I quickly wrapped myself up within the comfort net and absolutely refused to buzz. This year it being especially cloudy with occasional showers did the trick even easier. But as the sun slowly came lightening up the balcony, I peeped out to see the colors the new season had to offer. Spring had always been my favourite!
Hence, my rampage with the camera and paint in documenting the ‘New Spring Palette’






I’ve always been fascinated with the thought of a change. Now whether or not they have worked for me or against is a different question. Nonetheless I am always hopeful.. 
Finally the hibernation is over, or as I would like to believe.