Even after thinking about doing something daily, one ends up doing it, achieving it, finishing it only in the head. In the head is good, as it creates enough compound interest in head but it is not good enough.
I have had ups and downs, and have been away from home for some time. I was in Kashmir when article 370 was taken off. I was one of the last person to have trekked the majestic Amarnath ji this year. Without any plan or any inclination to have wanted to do it but surrendering to flow of life is such it takes you along on the paths, and you would enjoy. I fell in love with the harmony of the few people who walked along, some saints barefoot, and two without a leg who finished approximately sixty kilometres in as many days as I did. Food, sweets, tea, love and the name of shiva.
But the feeling was erratic even then. Tents, people were leaving a month before. And many had already left. The way was completely empty of any pilgrim coming from the other side. Probably that also made it count. It was quiet and you walked with your own self, slowly, quietly.
Phone lines and internet was called off a day after I arrived back home in Srinagar. I couldn’t get time to make any arrangements of leaving as it had become intense to stay over. It was a very vulnerable time in the valley and who knows what is going on even now. It took me nine more days to come out of the valley. I found a punjabi driver from Jammu early in the morning almost ready to leave. It was a beautiful morning over Dal. You could see clouds gathering over the ancient waters and over the Mahadev hill. The way back was as tense. We were stopped numerous times even before Banihal came, because on the other side, you would not imagine how many trucks, cadres, were filling in the valley. Testing time for a government who had just arrived three weeks ago and even before anyone could have blinked on something as mammoth an article as 370, which had probably made Kashmiri’s, laddakhis, Pandits, Punjabis as special and as vulnerable of their identity for all these decades after independence.
I had worked myself as a researcher and teacher in the border villages, in the most gruesome winters and thus have an idea of how the minds of local authorities work in contention and sometimes not in harmony with the army. How people can never almost challenge the claims and information that these authorities gather.
Things are bound to change.
I am sitting in a mud room in the outskirts of Laddakh. Writing after so long on my blog even though I wrote it daily in my head. I hope I present myself daily. Because this blog is not for me. This is for you. And if you are reading this right now, you may let me know.
Two weeks have passed. Two weeks are to come. The nights have become colder. Laddakh has been very kind. It’s the land of awakening. I came here in 2007 on my bike when rivers still went through roads. And somebody then had told me the full form of Leh that I took seriously then but I have never forgotten it. Life Ends Here. Or it starts again.
I am working on my first photo book here. On the work that I did in Cambodia. I will share more news soon but before all that comes out, I will be hitting the road again. May be to Zanskar, or may be to meet my children again to the village I taught 8 years ago.
Starless night
winter
Old Donkey
barking
at the new comer
To zojila, to Leh, to Hanle, to tso moreri, to i don’t know what pass that came after hundred’s of horses ran to take left, we took towards sky- a concrete river bed on top of a conical mountain which went all afternoon. Many called it a road. Through a broken bridge, through the ditches connecting another ditch on the Yoga day. While laughing at others. While laughing atourselves. While stopping before every loop to the mountain up. The dancing carrier. The nostalgia of the petrol fumes over six days. As every bicycle left us behind. Our omni made it across the Rohtang. But always carry two people to push it through. We needed many only once.
Not so long ago, it seems, i used to be able to meditate. A beautiful, silent, transparent state would arrive from somewhere; I presumed this was meditation. Now, nothing comes except racing mind. What happened?
The days when you were feeling a kind of meditation happening to you were the days you were not looking for it – it was happening to you. Now you are trying to make it happen, and that makes all the difference. All things that are really valuable in life only happen; you cannot make them happen, you cannot do them. it may be meditation, it may be love, bliss, it may be silence.
Anything that goes beyond your mind is beyond your capacity to do it; i now feel you can only do things which come in the territory of mind. The mind is doer, but your being is not a doer. Your being is just an opening, and a deep acceptance of whatever happens, with no complaint or grudge- just pure gratefulness. And that, too, is not done by you; that is also a part of happening. Something happens to you- it is so beautiful, blissful – the mind starts immediately desiring that it should happen more, more often and deeper. the moment mind comes in, it disturbs everything. Mind is the devil, the destroyer.
Be aware that mind should not be allowed to interfere in things of the beyond. Mind is perfectly good as a mechanic, a technician. Give your mind what it can do, bur don’t let it interfere in things which are beyond its capacity. One problem is that mind desires for more. As far as the world of doing is concerned, you can have a bigger, better house, car, phone- you can do everything better; it is within capacity of mind.
But beyond mind… mind can only desire, and each desire is going to be frustrated. instead of bringing more meditation, it will bring you more frustration. Instead of bringing you more love, it will bring to you more anger. Instead of silence and peace, it will bring more traffic of thoughts- and that happens to almost everybody. You have to outgrow it. Whenever the idea of trying arises, immediately drop it. It is going to lead you into failure, frustration but perhaps it can be dropped because it can never bring anything. Drop failure, frustration, despair, hopelessness and forget all about meditation.
And one day suddenly, you will find a window opens, and a fresh breeze with new rays has filled your heart. Again, don’t commit the same mistake! Be thankful for what is happening, but don’t ask for more because the more will be coming.
Slowly, slowly it becomes your heartbeat; waking, sleeping, it is always there, it never goes. But it is not your doing, you cannot brag about it or even take pride in it. It is always from the unknown that great experiences enter into our small hearts, and when we are trying hard to get them, we become so tense that the very tension prevents them.
When you are not trying, and are relaxed – you are not even thinking about meditation, you suddenly find footsteps of the unknown, something from nowhere, approaching you. Look at it with wonder, and not with expecting out of yourself, not with desire. Instead look at it with gratitude, with grace.
There is one advice I must give. Travel; at least once in your lifetime get yourself a one way ticket to any place that has ever called you. Solo is better, just like Fear of the unknown is good. I would say, rather pounce on it and do it all the way. And even do it, as you doubt your self; setting aside gloom, prepare yourself to become aware of every breath that is going to come to you. Travel.
Ever since February and March graced me to undertake an odyssey to the Indian South, it opened grand doors to a time and space that weren’t only old but preserved for centuries the fragrance of its tradition, from corruption that we have become accustomed to. Ceremonies, rituals, chants and most importantly the discipline of the two magic hours; to become conscious of the rise and the setting of the sun, and it being celebrated like a reserved festival for the soul with utmost attention, precision while guiding oneself to flow in following the cycle of the Sun. And it’s a shame that we couldn’t save it in Northern India with similar ardor and affection.
At the Valenchery Bus Stand, waiting for my bus to thiruvegappura. Kerala surprises you, while I found many bus drivers and conductors speaking in english, i found people with whom i couldn’t communicate but were most helpful in directing me.
First meal at Asokalayam, enamoured by the hospitality. Again in Kerala I found people in general more cautious and aware about how they prefer drinking water. It was herbal and at most places it lukewarm, and if ever it was not they did it if i asked them to.
During my 15 days stay at the Asokalayam, the food was as it should always be; simple, colourful and filled with life giving prana and vitality. I cannot stress it more than to have someone around us to show first how is it prepared and how much life changing can it be to eat right. To an extent it might change your destiny.
Meeting Manu di after the longest time, at the Asokalayam premises.
The village way to the Thiruvegappura Ambala Kshetram
4 a.m. flight half way over India to Kerala found me dozing when i can’t say what could have pulled me out of that slumber; showing me a sight i couldn’t take my comatosed eyes away. Perhaps it called out to the transition happening within me as i saw the divine light from to morning that was going to take place in the days that were arriving.
It was the second time I was crossing the Vindhyas coming to the Southern Plateau to work. And interestingly to a place that is mentioned in the Puranas dating back to Treta Yuga. It could only be some grace working through mysterious entities that I was directed to document the life around and subtleties of a 9th century temple in Thiruvegappura whose sanctum sanctorum was founded by the Aadi Shankara himself.
While on the road from the airport, the state seemed to be going through a stirring transition economically looking out of the window as much politically as I was gradually discovering in general conversations. Widening of the roads throughout, construction everywhere, people seemed to be rushing more than moving. But to someone coming from the nauseating capital of India, everything else is pretty green. I was going to stay in the ambala complex for two weeks to come; observing, interviewing and especially documenting the utsava: the festival that has a history going back several centuries when the idols of the great temple complex were brought here by the great Shankara.
Because last night, “Mother Nature decided to align the Moon, Jupiter, and Venus in a straight line just for us.” From the Thiruvegappura Temple, this was pure bliss.
A time of deep revelations and a stark contrast from the outside world, the moment I entered the temple village; drums started playing like a reverie. It was dramatic; it excited me for first few hours but when it continued like forever, my body could do nothing but move to a point where the music drummed me out from being a listener to becoming a performer. I was moving in my hundred year old wooden room, in an old forest by the river Kunthi, hosted by Asokalayam, an Ayurvedic Research Center and Hospital. I was staying at this old traditional Kerala home amongst a variety of Owls, kilometres away from where the percussionists were playing in a drunken state of trance till late night. The next day I reached the Amabala complex the moment I learnt the musicians are going to start before the sundown. It was a beautiful temple, architecturally superior with a large framed image of an elephant just at the entrance. I enquired and found it was temple’s favorite elephant that lived for a hundred years. The most surprising thing was the man whom I asked was already in his seventies and spoke of his grandfather who told him about this elephant, Maharaja i.e. we were talking of a memory of an elephant which lived and was a part of this community approximately 200 years ago.
Many people from the surrounding villages started arriving in numbers. Women with traditional Saris and flowers in their hair, and men were only allowed in mundo and bare chest. One of the most striking aspect that I found in the South was the discipline and more than that the decorum with which they had preserved this system. Every single child is given three choices; and not mandatory at all, he/she can choose to take vocals/sangeet, Instrument/vadya or dance/Nritya. And that will be taught by the temple society all their lives. Anup, a chenda player I met had left his high paying job in Saudi Arabia, took up Chenda again. He was one of the Drum players chosen to represent India for the annual Percussion meet in Brazil and the US, a tour that was 76 days long, he told me with a millionare’s smile that I felt can only come out of joy. The reverberating power of several men beating the ancient drum chenda with power and rhythm took me by my mind as its electric force started entering through various centers of my soul. The sounds that echoed between my ears vibrated within me such that it had to pull out, shake, tear away all memory, even attachments after weeks of being there, hearing it every single day for two weeks throughout the cycle of the sun and the moon. I became nothing but thoughtless. And how? First, it took away my hunger, my worries. It took away questions and all what I had been carrying for long while living in forsaken cities. Be it dirt, toxicity, things that infiltrate ones consciousness. The whole period was a journey of emptying and filling of pots. And ever since then it has been most difficult for me to sit in front of a screen to write and pour all the melody or ecstasy, happiness or solitude, magic or madness that warmed and moulded me to a point of formlessness, for I could not fathom where to begin or even If I must?
While observing the south Indian life approaching long summers around, there were also quite a few things I discovered about myself, one was my awe for the god-equal animal; the elephant. We don’t see elephants in Delhi anymore. The last time I photographed an Elephant on a Delhi road was on one winter night of 2014, he was walking from Akbar Road towards India Gate and to the Banks of Yamuna at ITO. I remember following him making a short video, may be because I could not control not looking at him. It was nothing short of spell binding trick. But here thousands of kilometres down south on the banks of river Kunthi, I started seeing one everyday, bathing on the other side. All the time eating one thing or the other; long grass, bamboo shoots, Sugarcane while moving his trunk, tail and body as if perpetually drunk on life. And well, he could be, he owes one to life for what he is given while bathing other times. But here in kerala, I had thought I would see one on every street but not really so much. Elephants are an important part of every temple ritual here, locals are used to their presence but still Wherever the elephant walks by here from; people, children, passersby have to leave what they are doing to watch this magnificent being in complete awe. Their presence is hypnotic.
The calming mother river Kunthi and the drunken elephant from an old Bridge in Palakkad.
Quoting from the Diary
For last 15 days, this little village in Kerala has given me the beat, the rhythm, the music I never knew, and now when I am living it, I could no longer write about it. May be it is the drunkenness, or the hangover, or an illusion like floating on water; having taken away all the city septics that I had carried all this while on earth, the first two weeks in Kerala were like a grand welcome planned by the god’s men themselves. Music lives here in people, or for some it chooses them.
Imagine the state of people when Tandav is being performed for 12 non-stop days and most nights. For me it did not remain god’s own country instead god’s came alive, more in the form of music; a never ending percussion that just goes on and on day in and night out- staying put for only five hours of the noon. It is nothing than Shiva himself dancing fearlessly like everybody’s watching. It has intoxicated me. May be it was this the ancients called Soma- The nectar of the moon. I am forced to attend to my moving head more than asking my eyes to focus on phone or screen as they disobeyed from opening more than half. Past last month was an experience that my being was never exposed to. May be because it had to do with discipline. With the routine putting me to the most sattvic short period of my life. It not just changed my language but it literally stopped me from speaking. This period banned the clothes that I had brought and gave me just one piece to tie under navel like the locals. It changed my entire food habit and taught me to wait for the best gifts that time can value. It gave me an ancient river to bathe twice a day. This period gave me silence, colors, sweet nothings that only strangers can feel amongst welcoming cultures. It allowed me to dive deep, and fly at the same time with offerings of only my time and awareness and sacrifices that people have made to elevate centuries old traditions of expressing delight and perhaps their spirit.
In Ayurveda, any treatment is divided into three parts, and the last part is known as recovery. I had never taken this much time to recover from a point of no return to write and in coming out of any journey but this time around the Indian South asked nothing but total surrender from me. And when I did, it took nothing less than my might to sit and gather the days of music and the nights filled with the variety of calls from owls that felt like jungles breathing their lungs out.
Images from the fragrant and most beautiful Thiruvegappura Temple in concluding days, as i move on in this journey to yet another encounter …
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Thank you
And just taking your time to suggest the best Ayurvedic Research and Medical Centre that can be a new life giving experience if one is looking for any. I cannot recommend anything but Asokalayam as one place to find your vitality back.
For more details you may write to me at narayankaudinya@gmail.com
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If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste
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I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About meand importantly;
I haven’t been walking enough since I came from South India. It was bereft of Spring and felt winter jumped to summer overnight but the northern part has been very kind in reaching out, in showing the colors.
These images found me calling on two different days I decided to leave my desk, looking out from my window when clouds seemed to be carrying rivers.
Sharing here just that bit of my April with you.
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Thank you
If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste
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I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About meand importantly;
Since the dawn of history, various extraordinary phenomena have ben recorded as happening amongst human beings. Witnesses are not wanting in modern times to attest to the fact of such events, even in societies living under the full blaze of modern science. The vast mass of such evidence is unreliable, as coming from ignorant, superstitious, or fraudulent persons. In many instances the so-called miracles are imitations. But what do they imitate?
It is not the sign of a candid and scientific mind to throw overboard anything without proper investigation. Surface scientists, unable to explain the various extraordinary mental phenomena, strive to ignore their very existence. They are, therefore, more culpable than those who think that their prayers are answered by a being, or beings, above the clouds, or than those who believe that their petitions will make such being change the course of the universe. The latter have the excuse of ignorance, or at least a defective system of education, which has taught them dependence upon such beings, a dependence which has become a part of their degenerate nature, the former has no such excuse.
For thousands of years such phenomena have been studied, investigated and generalised, the whole ground of religious faculties of man has been analysed, and the practical result is the science of Raja Yoga, Raja Yoga does not, after the unpardonable manner of some modern scientists, deny the existence of facts which are difficult to explain; in fact Raja Yoga declares that each man is only a conduit for infinite ocean of knowledge and power that lies behind mankind. It teaches that the desires and wants are in man, that the power of supply is also in man; and that wherever and whenever a desire, a want, a prayer has been fulfilled, it was out of this infinite magazine that the supply came, and not from any supernatural being. The idea of supernatural beings may rouse to a certain extent the power of action in man, but it also brings spiritual decay. It brings dependence; it brings fear; it brings superstition. It degenerates into a horrible belief in the natural weakness of man. There is no supernatural, says the Yogi, but there are in nature gross manifestations and subtle manifestations. The subtle are the causes, the gross the effects. The gross can be easily perceived by the senses; not so the subtle. The practice of Raja yoga will lead to the acquisition of the more subtle perceptions.
All the orthodox systems of Indian philosophy have one goal in view, the liberation of the soul through perfection. The method is by yoga. The word yoga covers an immense ground, but both the Sankhya and the Vedanta schools point to Yoga in some form or other.
The aphorisms of Patanjali are the highest authority on Raja Yoga. The other philosophers though occasionally differing from Patanjali on some philosophical points, have as a rule, acceded to his method of practice a decided consent.
The system of Patanjali is based upon the system of Sankhyas, the points of difference being very few. The two most important differences are, first that Patanjali admits a personal God in the form of a first teacher, while the only god the Sankhyas admit is a nearly perfected being, temporarily in charge of a cycle of creation. Second, the Yogis hold the mind to be equally all-pervading with the soul, or purusha, and the Sankhyas do not.
All Images have been photographed during a recent visit and walk along the Mother Ganges in Uttar Pradesh.
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Thank you
If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste
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I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About meand importantly;
When the photographer Arthur Sasse asked physicist and scientist Albert Einstein to smile for the camera on his 72nd birthday on 14 March 1951 – this is the image that was taken. Einstein was tired of smiling at all the photographers and instead decided to stick out his tongue. Einstein himself later used the image on greetings cards that he sent to friends.
And became one of the most famous and iconic images ever taken of laureate Albert Einstein, who was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics 30 years before the photograph was taken.
You may appreciate this memorable portrait as much as the next fellow, but it’s still fair to wonder: “Did it really change history?” Rest assured, we think it did. While Einstein certainly changed history with his contributions to nuclear physics and quantum mechanics, this photo changed the way history looked at Einstein. By humanising a man known chiefly for his brilliance, this image is the reason Einstein’s name has become synonymous not only with “genius,” but also with “wacky genius.”
So why the history-making tongue? It seems Professor Einstein, hoping to enjoy his 72nd birthday in peace, was stuck on the Princeton campus enduring incessant hounding by the press. Upon being prodded to smile for the camera for what seemed like the millionth time, he gave photographer Arthur Sasse a good look at his uvula instead. This being no ordinary tongue, the resulting photo became an instant classic, thus ensuring that the distinguished Novel Prize-winner would be remembered as much for his personality as for his brain.
Likewise, in 2017 physics laureate Kip Thorne collected his Nobel Prize medal, he was overcome with emotion while looking at an image of fellow Nobel Prize laureate, Albert Einstein.
A century ago, Einstein predicted the existence of gravitational waves. On 14 September 2015, Thorne and a collaboration of more than 1,000 physicists finally observed gravitational waves for the very first time.
This teamwork led to Rainer Weiss, Barry Barish and Kip Thorne receiving the Nobel Prize in Physics in 2017.
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Photographer Arthur Sasse
Arthur Sasse was an American UPI(United Press International) photographer. He was born on July 30, 1908 and died in October 1973.
Arthur wasn’t known as a stylish or even much in photography circuit until this image happened to him. This image was taken on March 14, 1951 after Einstien’s 72nd birthday celebrations at The Princeton Club. Hounded by camerapersons from all sides, he made the iconic shot, but other photographers surrounding the car missed it. The appropriateness of the photo was heavily debated by Sasse’s editors before being published on International News Photos Network. But became one of the most popular photos ever taken of Einstein, who himself requested nine prints for his personal use.
This image also became the talk of the town because until then Einstein was only known to be of course and intelligent, but serious. But this photograph showed people that he can also be silly and wacky too.
The picture became so popular that it was widely reproduced on posters and stickers. The original picture was auctioned off for $72,300, making it the most expensive Einstein photograph ever sold.
This photo was shot minutes before the famous Arthur Sasse photo of Einstein sticking his tongue out was taken.
Arthur found much work later, making portraits of several artists including Salvador Dali and the likes but it was his this image that brought him what Photographers often look for.
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Thank you
If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste
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I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About meand importantly;
DAVID BRANCACCIO: There’s a little sweet moment, I’ve got to say, in a very intense book– your latest– in which you’re heading out the door and your wife says what are you doing? I think you say– I’m getting– I’m going to buy an envelope.
KURT VONNEGUT: Yeah.
DAVID BRANCACCIO: What happens then?
KURT VONNEGUT: Oh, she says well, you’re not a poor man. You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.
I meet a lot of people. And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know. The moral of the story is, is we’re here on Earth to fart around.
And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.
David Brancaccio interviews Kurt Vonnegut discussing his then newly published Book: ‘A Man Without a Country’
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Starting a fresh series on writing and writers; excerpts from their books, as next few months Nara will be on the Road.
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 meand importantly;
You might also like to know about My Little School Project. If you wish to come over for a visit someday, that you must, you will be heartily welcomehere
If you would like to contribute to my travels,you can please do so here
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If you have anything to share, or feel like saying a hello, please feel free to write to me at narayankaudinya@gmail.com
To visit other long-term photographic works, please visithere.
To follow my walks through the rural Indian Subcontinent, find me at Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
You might also like to know about My Little School Project. If you wish to come over for a visit someday, that you must, you will be heartily welcomehere
If you would like to contribute to my travels,you can please do so here
: ँ :
If you have anything to share, or feel like saying a hello, please feel free to write to me at narayankaudinya@gmail.com
To visit other long-term photographic works, please visithere.
To follow my walks through the rural Indian Subcontinent, find me at Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
As a young boy my mother made me learn a sentence. The magic aspect of that one line was that it did not end with a full stop rather it took a flight of fancy and inspiration even before it ended. And She must have said this sentence a thousand times by the time i was twelve as few other sentences had started arriving at her memory doorstep, but by then I had found the keys to the roots for reaching to the tree top.
“If you want to be a happy adult Nara, she used to say, read the 3R’s. And those 3Rs were; Ruskin Bond, Roald Dahl and Rudyard Kipling.
As I look back today, I couldn’t have asked for any other direction as a child from anyone. She set me up early in my life filling it with curiosity, travels and compassion towards all beings and nature.
As I will be on the Road for next one month, I might not be able to write a lot about things I had thought earlier rather i imagined sharing some of my most loved writers who have pushed me to the edge of thinking; some excerpts, paragraphs, poems that I had kept scribbling in my journal whenever i come across to share the meaning and the message with one and all.
And felt that there could be no other poem to start this series with other than the one I owe so much to. It made me an earthling first, made me learn about myself and my relationship with my parents, made me visualise and subtly taught me about vulnerability the right way. I could not thank Mr. Kipling enough as his words showed me the world in a light that must have come straight from the Sun.
IF
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master; If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
~Rudyard Kipling
Written around 1895, Joseph Rudyard Kipling was an English Novelist, short-story writer, poet and Journalist. He was born in India, Bombay in 1865, which inspired much of his work.
Many Indian Kids such as myself who waited every sunday morning to watch ‘The Jungle Book’ was based on his stories that he had written while travels through the forests of central India.
At the age of 70, he died in London, on January 18, 1936.
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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 meand importantly;
You might also like to know about My Little School Project. If you wish to come over for a visit someday, that you must, you will be heartily welcomehere
If you would like to contribute to my travels,you can please do so here
: ँ :
If you have anything to share, or feel like saying a hello, please feel free to write to me at narayankaudinya@gmail.com
To visit other long-term photographic works, please visithere.
To follow my walks through the rural Indian Subcontinent, find me at Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
ROAD TO NARA 