Sandstone and Arches: Delhi of Old

Taken at the Jama Masjid earlier this year.

Ode to Everything

I will always remember the night of my college graduation.

There will be none of the pictures I clicked, nor any tangible evidence that the night ever happened. But for so many reasons, it will remain unforgettable. Because of all the hugs savoured, and all the goodbyes that weren't actually said. Because of all the dancing and good conversation. Because I was struck (yet again) by how many people in my life care. And because, for the first time, I let my camera out of arm's reach, and didn't get it back. But as with all truly legendary nights, I would do it all again.

There are so many people I want to thank, not just for making this one night special, but for making college the place it is to me. And when I first sat down to write this post over a week ago, I penned down a whole series of individual thank yous. But then I realised there could be no end to the number of people I could include on that list. So I will deluge you all with my gratitude individually, either in words or in kind, but definitely in due course.

Anyway, with finals nudging their way into the horizon, and people of the night taking off with my belongings, I am a little short on novel photographic adventures right now. So until I can work up the courage to post photos in low-resolution (thank god for camera phones), or the funds to make a shiny new purchase, I will post from the archives. The pictures that have been waiting for their debutante ball. Let's start with a few shots from a day out in Geneva, almost exactly a year ago.

Dandelion fields, duck families, and a sunset. Let's bring on the nostalgia.

Looking Up At Trees Looking Down On Me

Spring in Delhi is possibly my favourite season of all.

But I almost missed [all three weeks of] it this year. I've been buzzing around with purpose lately. You might even say I've been bees-y. Oh, I know. But every second I haven't spent looking out of the viewfinder of my camera, I've spent wishing I had it. My photos are very much a part of the way I view the world. And all of you know that, of course. But it also means that driving past the wonderfully flower-canopied Delhi roads without my camera made me crave it like a pregnant woman craves a piece of dark chocolate.

And so, I very much needed to take my camera out for a walk today. Here is what I saw:

Sleepy seeds, just waking up as I walked by.

A shoe! The other half of this pair was just a few metres away, being used as fuel for a fire.

Callistemons, otherwise known as bottle-brushes.

A thousand different flowers on each stalk. Nature is so, so pretty.

More callistemons!

A lonely mulberry. I think the monkeys ate all the others. Shame.

And finally, a shot for the title.

Oh spring, don't go away.

Holi

Happy Holi, everybody!

Ever since one holi five years ago, where someone managed to dye the inside of my ear bright pink, I've been understandably hesitant about being a part of this festival. I mean, I'm still walking around with pink earwax, so it's hard not to be.

This year was no different. For days before, I was all prepared to lock myself up in a room and watch bad movies all day. But festivals are about about the spirit of the community and all that. So, I steeled my will (tied back my hair, pulled on my combat gear and put on the war nail paint), and went out to be a part of the action.

Of course, I got splashed. And bucketed. And water-ballooned.

And of course, it was fun!

We played with colour, water, flowers...

Wait, flowers?

Yes! We played Braj ki Hori. Holi as it's played in Braj, North India. They play nine different kinds of holi, which means they use not only colour and water, but sticks and flowers, among other things.

It's pretty, isn't it?

And when that was over, we stood there and dried off, in all our multicoloured glory. And rubbed cheeks with friends and family, and filled our bellies with good food, and our hearts with sunshine and happy things.

Mush aside, it's a nice feeling.

So, happy holi again, everybody. Join us next year!

(Hopefully, my earwax will have returned to its normal, non-hot-pink self by then.)

Last Days

It's early days in Delhi spring, and since this season - like autumn - lasts all of one week, we make the most of it. That means more lazy days spent out in the sun, catching memories in pieces of glass. (Don't worry, I'm talking about my lens!)

So say hello to my bumchums, 7m and Mega!


Aren't they gorgeous?


Here they are together. Six percent curious...

Four percent freaked out...

But mostly, just happy.

Baah, I'm going miss you two.

Two

She draws Xs
in the fog above her head,
wishing they were
less than threes
instead.

Knowing
less than three equals
two.

Ed: I found this quote by Carl Rogers after I posted this.

“People are just as wonderful as sunsets if I can let them be…when I look at a sunset, I don’t find myself saying, “soften the orange a bit on the right hand corner”. I don’t try to control a sunset. I watch with awe as it unfolds.”

How wonderfully apt.

Mambo No. 5

How long has it been since you heard this song?

It's been a while, hasn't it? I heard it this afternoon, in the backseat of a car with a fourteen year old doggy. On a ride I bummed with a college prof. Man, what fun.

I think that on some days, the universe just throws a bunch of fun stuff (like bird poo!) at you, just to see how you'll react to it. Or how stubbornly you'll outdo yourself at randomness. Which is what I did.

So, today was spent exploring the big backroads of the city, limbo-ing through gaps in barbed-wire-thorny-bush fences, being an excellent receptacle for aforementioned poo, and absorbing knowledge from the Economist magazine, the (wonderful) people at TED talks, and my Econometrics teacher. In case you thought I spent all day outdoors.

Also, we received a package! I'd been expecting the sweets below for a couple weeks now. And they finally arrived.

So pretty.

And yet, so different from what I expected. They tasted like box! Not the yummy, wooden flavour you find at the end of a popsicle, but pure, good-quality PVC. And we all know the only kind of polymer I want in my mouth is chocolate.

Oh, packaging. Oh, strange days.

Good thing we have the mambo.

"Comfort is just boredom with good PR"

College. Just as you kick off your shoes and get comfortable...

...it's over. And you're left with an empty shoe-rack.

And while it was nice to have a (deceptively bright) place to stow them, it was never about where you put your shoes. It's about who you found while you were off gallivanting.

In your socks.