Year: 2022

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

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    

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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 …