the brook

I hit the road last weekend with a few friends to travel to Melaka for a couple of days. It’s been quite a while since I travelled anywhere just for the sake of travel - so even though it was a short trip, it was a good one.

The moment you cross the border from Singapore to Malaysia, you somehow get a sense that life is more chaotic, more unpredictable, more spontaneous, more free. These guys at the Larkin bus terminal saw me with my camera and had enthusiastically asked me to capture the moment. At the time, I said I’d try and make it to the front page with the photograph :) but this will have to do.

Singapore being a small country, I really miss the endless landscapes one gets to see while traveling in India - the highways in Malaysia though offer ample amounts of the same.

Melaka has had very strong cultural influences over the years - both Islamic and European and it served as a very important port for a long time. This is reflected in a disproportionate number of buildings being architecturally aesthetic (I’m no critique, but they’re better than boxes).

St. Paul’s Church in Melaka has a very interesting history. The guy in the picture was doing an amazing job singing Knocking on Heaven’s Door - an appropriate song in more ways than one - the Church is at a high vantage point and overlooks the city.

There are some really good museums in the city - hosting art, literature and historical knowledge and artifacts. One of them, a naval museum, is inside a ship; unfortunately, it was closed for renovations when we were there.

The streets of Melaka can be very colourful and lively.

The river which runs through Melaka is a great place to enjoy a quiet evening at sunset.

Chinatown in Melaka was a really busy place on Saturday night.

The river I mentioned earlier runs throughout the city. There were lot of activities around the river on the weekend from fairs to kayaking to performances. There are also a number of houses along the river and there were families having a barbecues just outside.

Great place to go, even if only for a day.

In India, we used to celebrate the 14th of November (birth anniversary of Jawaharlal Nehru) as Children’s Day in school. It was one of the few days when wearing our uniforms was not compulsory, and instead of classes we used to have games and fun all day long. Truly the good old days.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

– Khalil Gibran

The photo is a mosaic of snaps taken from my Flickr stream.

Wishing everyone a Hapyp Diwali and joyous year ahead!

Quintessentially Mumbai.

As usual, I trooped down to the Indian High Commission and had a good time. Here’s a nice article on how India has done in 60 years. As usual, clicked a few snaps at the High Comm.

The flag hoisting.

Mini Rang De Basanti being acted out :)

The President’s address delivered by the High Commissioner. I’d say the speech lacked a certain something that was always there in Dr. Kalam’s addresses on Independence Day. Can’t help wishing he was back for a second term.

More photos here. Happy Independence Day!

You have to get out of Singapore to know the real meaning of spring.

(Click to go to the photoset)

I was home for just a weekend, but no trip home is complete without a walk on the beach, which thankfully happens to be just a hop, skip and jump away from my house. The first thing to catch my attention was this fellow, whose name was Nilesh and he happily agreed to be photographed.

The message on his t-shirt stopped me short. He lives in the slums seen in the distance, and in his hands is a piece of cloth - he was collecting those he could find so that his parents could sell them off later and make some money.

Seeing him, a lot of kids came around asking to be photographed. At many places in the world, photographers need to know their rights because people consider photography an invasion of privacy, but in India it’s more like photographers’ duties.

Mumbai dogs are pretty smart.. evolution and all you know. Need skills to survive in the city.. so they seemed not only perfectly aware that I had a camera but were really interested in having their picture taken. This one actually came right upto me and had his shot taken inches from his face. Maybe he thought I’d get him into Bollywood.

And of course, there’s always beach cricket virtually anywhere in India. The way this fellow missed a pull shot though, it’s almost like he was playing for the India team.

Small things, but it all adds up to an undeniable fact - there is no place like home. When I came back home, I saw the sunset from my window - I’ve seen a thousand times, yet it’s always different.

Hope everyone’s been having happy holidays. Happy 2007 to all.

This, by the way, is the view from my window at home. Probably the greatest wealth I will ever have.

I’m sure there must be a reason to decorate the trees on Orchard road with white-dotted red cloth. Except I can’t for the life of me figure it out. The best answer I can come up with is - to educate people. Like this.

It stretches as far out as the eye can see. Expansive plains, or humbling mountains. Refreshingly green, or majestically arid. Devoid of human touch, or dotted with huts and farms. Seen in an instant as it passes by, or soaked up over hours by those who sit and stare. And never forgotten.

Silent. The occasional call of a country bird or the roar of a passing vehicle only serve to define the silence. And still. Leaves rustle, and in the distance a farmer and his cows plough a field. Just reminders of stillness. In hundreds of years past, invaders have conquered, cities have sprung, life has changed for a billion people. And here, a few blades of grass have been bent.

It is the stillness - and the silence - which speaks there. And that is why I go. They speak with gentleness, and a haunting surety. They don’t just tell you their story. They tell you that their story is also yours. Just one that is forgotten - in the numerousness of activity filled moments with which you define your life. And they bring you back to the only moment that matters.

The present.

[Just reminiscing about the road trip that I wrote about earlier. All the photos have been uploaded to Flickr.]