Speaks of laziness, doesn't it, afternoons?
A wonderful time of the day, I tell you.
Provides you a host of choices to choose from to spend that time ; you can either settle for a siesta, or curl up with a good book, or, if you have an adventurous streak, sneak inside the silent kitchen for something lip-smacking which you probably can't lay your hands on under the watchful eyes of your mother or grandma.
Afternoons also allow you to flip through the pages of the day's newspaper and usually halt at the comic-strip or sudoku section most of the time ; to run up that steep staircase, unlatch a rusty, creaking door, and burst into the terrace, which has grown less familiar to you in the years of 'growing up', and most importantly, to reflect on the thoughts that have been bothering you for sometime, and is the reason for the dark circles under your eyes.
My father once told me, we are in dire need of time to really understand what we want from life. Time is too short, and we take away far too much of it to squander than spend properly.
To find answers to the big questions in our life, we need to spend considerable amount of time with ourselves, to think and reflect upon our thoughts and way of seeing things.
Though some would say that thinking isn't of any worth if you refuse to act the way you think, I would say go ahead. Think first. It takes a lot of courage to think in the correct lines. Because it can be scary sometimes you know; coming out of your comfort zone, stepping into reality, and deciding if it's time to reconstruct your views or adhere to the original ones.
Once you have learnt how to think, you will know how to act.
So, to all those who took the trouble to read through, start reflecting.
And I assure you that afternoons will be a great time to do so.
And for all those who are too busy to reflect, don't worry.
The way reality is gaining ground, it will force you to find an afternoon exclusively for your thoughts very soon.
:)
Taken from a car; stopping briefly at a traffic signal.
The entire picture went out of focus, due to the low light conditions of a sweltering evening.
Looked more like a painting to me, only blurry, as if the proportions of water and paint have been improperly measured.
The city has so many secrets, so many truths in her bosom, camouflaged by the glow of its brighter and warmer facets.
Sometimes, in moments of utter I-don't-know-what, I wish to unfold these truths one by one, as if carefully unwrapping a mysterious package, trying to bring out a little facet of the place, where my roots lie.
Evenings and afternoons have a queer way of making people nostalgic , even if that nostalgia reminds them of the weirdest thoughts.
One such superbly nostalgic evening, at my aunt's place, I was sitting by the window. My head was feeling like frozen yogurt (it was winter) and my eyes dizzy with sleep.
The after-effects of a prolonged nap during the afternoon, nothing else.
I was too overpowered by dizziness to feel nostalgic right then.
However, I freezed some consecutive moments of that evening, illuminated by neon lights of the lamp-post and strings of small, multi-coloured light bulbs.
And now illuminated by memories as well.
:)
The river we address as mother.
Ganga. And a handful of golden confetti of the rising sun on her surface.
And a fisherman, getting down to his day's task.
Together, they influence one another.
Individually, each has its own flow to control.
A simple still life.
This picture has a little story of its own, like all pictures do.
In traditional Bengali culture, it is a custom to light fourteen diyaas inside the house on the night preceeding the festival of Diwali.
This is supposed to ward off evil and bad luck from the household and welcome the festival of lights.
This is one of those fourteen diyaas, guaranteed to bring good luck!
:)
Took this snap in February this year, when the chill of winter had not weared off completely.
I was going to visit my aunt for a few days.
Bagging a window seat in a more or less empty compartment, and seeing the early morning sun rise slowly behind the silhouetted complex maze of the station wires and posts, was a combined treat.
I took this shot just when the train began to speed up.
:)
Time pass. We grow up. Try to leave behind our deeply-rooted childishness.
And try to imitate grown-ups to feel grown up ourselves at times.
I've been no exception.
Likewise I've learnt that growing up takes time and can be a real challenge for people who strive, searching answers for life's tricky MCQ's.
I remember being rescued in one such sticky episode of life by my little brother, who had been hunting down the house for a playmate, found me instead, and begged me to play one game of Snake and Ladder with him.
I played with him ; after, what seemed like decades.
I won, and the pure happiness I felt at winning against my brother made me realise, after a bloody long time, what's it like to be a sister.
When was the last time I felt sisterly? I've no clue.
Dear brother, you are an ass, but you are one of those rare persons who drags me rightly from trying too hard to impress others, and ushers me into a role where I fit in effortlessly, realising that there's a thin line between my burgeoning adulthood and your formative childhood.
:)
This is a humble picture of my eldest sister's flip-flops :D
Took their snap one afternoon, when she returned home (shortly after her honeymoon) for a visit.
I have a fetish for photographing inanimate things (mostly balderdash) and this pair of slippers, being wonderfully comfortable earned my envy easily.
It still does.
It reminds me of my sister too, who now stays so many miles away from home.
"It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is : What are we busy about?" -
Henry David Thoreau
I think sometimes we need to deconstruct ourselves to see what we are really made of.
To find whether it is just flesh, blood and bone, or something more concrete.
Mirrors do strangely reflect our surroundings at times.
Juxtaposing whatever lies within its range of reflection.
And we hardly stop to notice and stare at it.
For a while.
And hardly our thin lips break into a smile.
Except maybe for smiling appreciatively at our second self.
Selfish, isn't it?
An old random picture. Taken almost a year back maybe.
I took this picture one fine afternoon on one of my object-photoshooting spree.
Playing with light..\m/
