Category: artist

An Ode to A Photographer

Photography is a rare art

Playing with omnipresent

Light and Time 

Capturing moments

That transpire magically

Just like a sudden flight of a bird

Or deep pensive prayer of a saint

Or something unsettling

Or maybe deeply political

Just like a dying child staring

At an approaching vulture

These are moments of truth

That transcends Time

A photograph rarely lies

Unless of course it is doctored

To peddle a lie

Ever since it’s invention

There have been warriors

Going to the ends and the depth

To capture beauty and horror

Their gaze becomes

The gaze of the masses

That’s the magic

They turn you

Into them

The gaze changes places

You become the onlooker

Your silence becomes complicity

Life of a photographer

Isn’t an easy one

Trudging with the gears

They make the unseen

And unknown visible

They unravel the truth

That hides in the plain sight

Leaving us to wonder

How did we allow this to happen?

Are we going to do something?

Photographs have changed

The world history

But photographers carry

The burden of Sisyphus

They must push the boulders

And the borders again and again

They must teach

The blind populace to see 

And behold the truth

And not turn a blind eye 

Again and again

Photographers have turned 

Cosmetic over ages

They just indulge in beauty

Safety and narcissism of it

Yet there came along

A rare tall one

With a discerning eye

And deep wisdom

Who could stop the world

With one single photograph

Using simple Light and Time

To paint the undeniable Truth

An ace visual storyteller

Holding the mirror to the world

Leaving for the future

Stories that are imprinted

By light on the frames of Time

And memory forever!!

PS: In remembrance of legendary Raghu Rai who passed on to another realm today

Michael

You danced & sang

And moonwalked

Your way through life

Life that wasn’t easy

Your childhood was lost

You played in gigs

While other kids went to school

You brought home animals

To talk and show love to

Because humans around you

Didn’t always show up

You lived life on your terms

You broke out of the gilded cage

Made by your father, music producers

You called out the truth and the lies

You reached heights and lows

As a black man you rose high

What a white man

could only dream of

Obviously you had to be punished

They had to make

An example out of you

So that no one else would dare

That’s how white world

Keeps things in order

And gets away with every crime

They still are vilifying you 

Even after all these years

Killing you again and again

Yet they cannot dim your shine 

For you were born a star 

With your own stupendous

Creative energy and charm

Which no one could take away

You showed the world 

Music was a universal language

That could unite and heal the planet

And just when the world

Is very badly wounded

You have made daring comeback

In your movie posthumously

To teach people to live again

To heal the planet again

To dance and moonwalk

Through tears and smiles

To the music of life!!

Brain Fog

Best words and lines

And the flow of thoughts, ideas

Come to me while

I am walking or teaching

Or while doing some unrelated chores

And then they disappear

Brain fog I guess

Should I guilt trip myself

For not writing them down?

Or maybe a pardon is in order?

After all brain fog isn’t my fault

And it isn’t the brain’s fault either

We keep constantly overloading it

With information, emotions and sentiments

Evoked by hundreds of visuals

And narratives unfolding

Everywhere all at once

One moment we are infuriated

And next moment we laugh

We cry for a bit too

And then we are confused

Most of the time

I guess the brain too gives up on us

Thinking fast, thinking slow

Long term or short term

Cognition and metacognition

How much can it label and segregate?

Neurons too must be overworked

With all the firing and messaging

I try to remember that string of thoughts

Something that got completely lost

While I went on a scavenger hunt

Looking for war, elections and other news

Doomscrolling

I don’t remember knowing these words

During my growing up years

Brainfog, doomscrolling…

Oh wait…what was I planning

To write about?

Ufff I lost the string of thoughts again

Wonder how James Joyce and other

Stream of consciousness writers

Would have fared in this era?

Will there be a new genre?

A genre of brain fogged writings?

For writers who lose their

Stream of consciousness?

Success

Success is a mirage

A beautiful illusion

That everyone chases

It is intangible

But yet always measured

In tangible terms

Of money or assets

Or fame or infamy

Success is a strange mirage

It doesn’t guarantee

Happiness, peace or safety

Yet it is one of the most

Powerful driving forces

Driven strongly by

By the societal constructs

Or cultural norms 

World’s most famous

Writers, poets, singers and artists

Who died dirt poor as failures

Are often remembered

Oxymoronically

As successful failures or vice versa

Success is a strange mirage

A milestone some never aspire to reach

Yet they remain successful

By defying all norms and constructs!!