Year: 2022

Top 9 Blog Posts That Changed My Course of 2022; A Summary and A Start of a New Chapter

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Well, this is it. Another year is done and we are looking to the clouds how and where it all went. But nature is no cheat. There is no lapse of a day, of a moment or even a blink. We live it. We are aware of it. We breathe each breath full. One thing that I learnt while I was living 2022 was that even though I enjoy writing, it cannot be my end all. I take joy in walking more, in seeing and being at a place that urges me to contemplate, to talk to it. Somewhere that pushes me to dive deeper in aspects that i wasn’t aware of before. I love movement and I love challenging myself around those movements. So I have decided I am not going to make resolutions anymore because somewhere deep within we know what is required of us at what time. Where are we needed the most. I may prioritise it but life has always taken the better route, or has checkmated me most of the …

7 Simple Life Ways To Become the Change You Want to See    

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I write for my travellers here who are on this Road To Nara with me, but I also write for my students at school who at one point in time are going to grow and find their teacher online on the road. This is for all of us, going in another year, like getting up from sleep again, who are going to get another morning, another opportunity, one more day of possibilites. And it is for anyone who ever in future is going to land on this page, who is curiously questioning, finding a way to grow in value and meaning, who has arrived at the crossroads and perhaps is waiting for that possible kick. 1. De-clutter In today’s age, we are consuming everything possible. Moving, still, visuals, all kinds of trash, text, and even that screen light that keeps glaring on our retinas like never before. In ancient times Yogis were asked to imagine sun between their eyes to grow light and heat in the system. But today the screen we use has replaced …

About Kashmir, A Tale of Keepers and Rowing a Shikara to a Friend’s Wedding in Lake Dal Srinagar

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Learning how to row was the most profound, useful as much as useless, but one hypnotic skill that arrived at one point in my life. I was living with the Huns, a houseboat community in Dal Lake. The boat in general is called Shikara in Kashmiri. And Rowers were called Keepers, an English word. And perhaps it was this word that lured me to become one; a keeper. The one who keeps. Kashmir; the most beautiful valley on Earth. Not because it is pretty but perhaps the most complex. Also, the most militarised one, around that time. The aura of violence and terror was ever present in everyday Kashmiri life. When the valley was going through its longest curfew of their existence, I was there, walking, documenting the flatlands of Srinagar and hiking up the Harvan Mountains, even finding my way to the Mahadev Rock in the Pir Panjals while also finding myself bathing in the waters of the river Lidder, formerly Lambodarini and the mighty Indus. I was learning to live with the birds …

A Visual Diary Of a Day In My Village

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I do not live in my village. Neither I get to spend time there any more. But there are days when the news comes like the fresh winds after Rains. That grandfather is calling. He turned 101 this month. And well who knows he could be even more or less as there was no way to document it in those days. On paper he was born in 1921. Rains. Photography has become like that elusive rain for me. I have stopped photographing like I used to. I do not use any of my three cameras and 8 old-world manual Nikon lenses anymore, that I had carefully and proudly bought. It was through my 20mm and 35mm lenses that I taught myself to photograph day in and day out. To an extent I always felt a sense of belongingness that they knew what I want to see every single moment and day of my outing with them. But times strangely changed or did I? More after I started using ‘Road to Nara’- my blog as a …

The Colours of November : A Photographic Journey

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Second last month of another year will be done soon. December knocks or not it has arrived. Many a times words feel weighty and probably this could be one thing for a writer which is nearly impossible to establish through his writing. A long Silence. Or the absence of presence. He may distract and not talk about a certain thing or may even carve out a poem. But silence is something that is personal to any breathing being. This November was that silent noise for me. It came as it is going. Like life, like age. It is not I who feels older still but only while observing my parents. streaks of hair, dehydrated skin, puffed eyes. Things are certainly moving towards a direction. It was a busy month. Filled with many memories that we as a family collected, and me in my own archival way. Away from expectations or even results. May be I have learnt the way of a writer. Yet still I am and will always be ‘in-practise’ an imagemaker first. Sharing …

What Children Dream?

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Last Week when our projector abruptly died. We were in the middle of a focused class learning about the Human Body System. But the sudden death of our computer gave class an opportunity to discuss something completely different in a matter of minutes. We started talking about dream and reality. Being at an age as they are, though super smart, there is line till where my children can absorb. But more than that they can remarkably express. On a whim I asked them to write what they dream about. Many of them came up with many different thoughts and other beautiful visualisations. But only few could write them so beautifully that I at once decided to share at least few with you all. It were written in such an alluring way; precise and small sentences that you feel it has taken a writer years to perfect it. They were comfortable in Hindi. And even though I might not be able to transpire exactly their language but still I will try to pass on their essence …

My Ten Strange Days of Meditation at an Age Old Vipassana Centre: A Complete Guide On The Final Answer

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It was 1ST February 2007, when I first wrote this article. Fifteen days after, when my supposed vow of silence ended. That was my maiden spiritual experience of living with myself confined in a room. I was younger, attentive, perceptive, and found myself aware of observing the observer in moments of light while co-existing with other seekers. I had barely crossed my teenage. It certainly was a tender time. Even after one and a half decade today, that experience of being; learning to breathe knowingly lingers somewhere in my mind. Even today Whenever I find myself weak, my days unproductive, out of sync, sometimes purposeless or even when my food cycle goes awry I still find myself pulling back to the time and food cycle of my Vipassana time. I had lost this document a long time ago but it resurfaced. Perhaps there is something to learn still that I hadn’t. To understand the intricacies of a process that started then, the subtle nature of a flow that all along kept becoming thicker like fading …

A Celebration for the Sun: A Brief History of Chhath in Paintings and Images

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I had not decided to celebrate today. But nature pulled me in. For last few months I had been parallel-y working on a project in New Delhi. Rather it is my expression on Climate Change living in a region which in itself is an extension of extremism in most ways. For one it is making our lives vulnerable to diseases here, viruses, climate catastrophes in terms of pollution and per square population density, in the National Capital Region. Working on a project such as this has taken my breath, my life in a way that I sometimes remunerate myself a quote that Andrei Tarkovsky used to say on ‘Cinema requiring sacrificing of yourself. That You should belong to it, it shouldn’t belong to you. Cinema uses your life, not vice versa. In all ways, i have proved him right, without making much progress. On a whim last night I and team decided to visit the Yamuna river early morning as mist has started to settle over the flowing water. We walked till noon to film the …

The Times They Are A Changing

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Last week was Historic for India. Not because of an impossible looking chase made possible by Virat Kohli, an Indian Cricketer during India versus Pakistan in Melbourne, Australia during the Cricket World Cup. And may be not also because of Rishi Sunak, a British Indian becoming Britain’s Youngest Prime Minister in 200 years. And that here in India, all are going gaga about 75 years later remark! Even though it isn’t any less an achievement. Given how britishers are divided on an Asian being their Prime Minister. In a hilarious swipe, I heard Trevor Noah stating on it being the revenge time, while coaxing the English people to imagine a time when the great empire was trying to rule countries where no one looked like them!” Anyways, I only wish that however he got elected, he must put his everything to get Britain back on track. But for something which completely got overshadowed with all the happenings the world over. Last week Indian Space and Research Organisation put the heaviest ever Indian Rocket with 36 …

A Land Devoted To Light

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India that is Bharat* is the oldest living civilisation on Earth, and to even our surprise we at times get tired of celebrating so many festivals that arrive week after week non-stop throughout the year. But Diwali is not just any festival. It, I imagine presents the right amount of cosmic chaos, the energy and the passion that brings people together lighting up their homes, decorating streets, shops and on a subtle level trying to illuminate themselves by praying for Knowledge and Wealth on this moonless day. India is a land of Travellers and Storytellers. And Tonight of light which is also my favourite, is celebrated on the homecoming on one such Traveller. The King Lord Sri Rama, personally I revere him not because he was known to be Just, or responsible, balanced, courageous rather severely moral in love and War, but he has been for me the most ideal traveller that i have known through texts and people. He could easily be the most ancient walker who walked with a vow mapping the most …

Why Do I Like Gandhi?

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Because he was an admirable Walker, to start with. 2nd of October is imprinted in each Indians heart. Not only because it is M.K Gandhi’s birthdate. But to us growing up in India this day was always a holiday till we knew why? From my last year’s Essay on Knowing Gandhi and Learning from Mahatma, I myself have come a long way in understanding Politics and Public Service. I have taken small steps in sharing my Yoga dhyana and health as a class, and as much speaking about many issues with children and parents at School and otherwise. I have long admired MK Gandhi. But not only for the usual reasons, some of you may know from previous year’s essays. But Something where I connect with him. He was a great walker; indeed one of the hardiest, most determined walkers of all time. I acknowledge it because I love walking myself and I can say with authority that no day has gone empty where I hadn’t spend an hour or more taking time out to …

Mother, Man and the Queen: A Short Photographic Tribute to September

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“My father worked in the Buckingham Palace mail room for a short while in the 1970s. It was a period when letter bombs were being sent to prominent figures in the UK by the IRA and it was his job to inspect the queen’s mail for any potential explosive devices. The man he worked with, a fellow ammunition technician, himself was a stamp collector. And He couldn’t believe his luck. He, out of hundreds of people was offered a job where envelopes, with exotic stamps stuck…Read more

Ten Hard Truths a Student Must Know For Life

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Last week while taking a round in school, I felt someone is sobbing somewhere. I tried to find the source of the sound. Up and below as it lead me to the basement. One student sat under stairs in darkness, his head down between his legs. He got scared the moment he saw me, stood straight and hit his head hard on the stair roof above him and went down again like a cloth falling from a string. Sobbing out loud. Pandemic fenced my travelling like anyone’s and it turned my attention towards my school. Taking Yoga classes, developing students skills around arts and photography, teaching conversation and language skills. Later when I asked Akshat, the crying boy, what he said took me by surprise. He told me that he fears his mother will die soon, that he cannot bear he will be all alone. His had already lost his father years ago. That evening back home, I decided that I will introduce my children to the wisdom of the ancients. Once a week I …

Mine Against the World of Elon Musk: Some Secrets on High Performance and Thoughts on Artificial Intelligence

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For most of us, our understanding of robots and artificial intelligence (AI) is drawn more from science fiction than from fact. But it is true that the world of intelligent machines is opening up. And as we approach this brave new world of human-level machine intelligence, we may need to reassess what it means to be human.

The STORY OF INDIA in 75 Independent Years

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Today is 15th August. It is a date with destiny. A total of 6 countries got Independence on this date in different years. You can say they were destined too. BahrainCongoThe Two KoreasLiechtenstein and my country, India. The largest and the most vibrant democracy in the world. A country that is diverse in every single sense. Geographically, Socially, Culturally, Linguistically. Since Colonial Rule, a nation of 1.3 Billion people will celebrate the fact that they have proven wrong every Western Commentator who predicted doom upon a young country in the late 1940s, all the way up to even 1970s. 75 Years ago at midnight India made tryst with destiny. An independent India was born. Drained and Divided but desperate to make on its own. How would one describe this journey of seven and a half decades? Its been a staggering, astonishing, colossal and a monumental journey this past 75 years. And no what foundations, morals a man or a country shows; it all boils down to ECONOMY The British crown looted 45 Trillion dollars from …

Making of a Capital : A Short Travel Poem and a Photo Essay

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And now we move to the rhythm of this restlessnessOn these streets many people dead they drive with recklessness 8% growth has some people flex with lexusesIn South ex shop for Rolexes and diamond necklaces Land developers come down hard build power nexusesThey build more malls and shopping complexcesses State militia vacate villages – next exodusSo you can cash checks of sensex indexes. Many narrators refer to Delhi as be-dil(heartless). They say the city is cruel, treacherous, ungrateful, selfish and a whore. Prior to the Muslim rule, Delhi’s most popular name was Yoginipur, City of Yoginis. Jain texts and Prakrita literature mentioned the city as Yoginipur. Yoginis are lesser goddesses; some texts say they numbered 12 while others put the figure at 64. Yogmaya, the presiding deity of Yoginopur, reigned over all the Yoginis. : ँ : Excerpts and Images from an Ongoing Project on Delhi Thank you. If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste : ँ : I will take this opportunity to …

The Grand Night of Shiva and A Day of Beautiful Meanings

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The morning arrived. A big day. Like a loved one’s birthday. And everything was planned. Even the time calculated for leisure. But leisure comes at a price. Millions abstain from eating that day. Reason could be their own. Mine was to celebrate. I had already spoken to Pandit Ji, I will be spending the night at the temple and hence I was taking the day lightly. I ate Moong Halwa, whatever was left of it. And stepped out for a stroll outside, to see the clouds, to breathe a few times deeply. To spread se beans and chapatis for birds and a ferocious black dog with whom I shared a biscuit and since then we were best of friends. Nearby I found a trail and was looking for the stream following its sound, when a local woman standing on the roof of her home, located on the top of that cottage hill called me thrice in succession. She stood right up at an angle close to 90 degrees asked me again if she can come …

Silent Poems From My Ancestral Village; A Photographic Tribute

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These images come from my village. Right here where my grandmother sits peeling potatoes, there i was born. But left within three months as I was told. The hand you see on the wall comes on Indian walls when a daughter leaves the house after marriage. This home also witnessed my earliest phase when I first started making photographs with our only family Kodak Film camera KB10. These are some of the Earliest images from my village home and probably the only time I could photograph my grandmother, peeling potatoes. Made in 2005. : ँ : Thank you. If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste : ँ : I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About me and importantly; As a co-traveller, will take you through the Ten Lessons I learnt from several years on the road, before you coarse on your own Road to Nara. Also read: Top 9 Most Read Posts of 2022 : ँ : You might also like to know about My Little School Project. If you wish …

A Short Visit to the Museum Of Almora; An Introduction to the Life and Struggle of Govind Ballabh Pant

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The Museum was empty. If I ignore one woman sitting, scrolling through her facebook on phone. There was no one and nothing but the fragrance of hanging dank wood welcomed me. A feeling which comes just before entering a wormhole. Or the back side of a cinema, closed long ago. As I put first few steps walking parallel to the blue wall looking at the old, outdated, never cared for large sized prints of venerable Temples and this city; nostalgia started to evoke silent, irrelevant screams out of those bare prints.

Following Vivekananda; and How one Home Found me in Kasar Devi- Almora

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The fourteenth night of the waning moon each month is special. But in the month of Falgun i.e. March, this 14th night is said to have an upsurge of Prana/energy in one’s system (also if one could sit still throughout night) that which even pulled Swami Vivekananda more than 130 years ago to this small little mountainous region called Almora. But more precisely to a place on the top of the Kashyapa hill known as Kasar Devi. A place or the temple structure dating back to 2nd century CE.