The Fire Star

Agni Nakshatram (Kathiri Veyil in Tamil), the period ruled by Agni, and traditionally the hottest time of the year, ends today!  Let the winter storms begin! (This is a joke.)

Agnideva, the Vedic god of fire who lives within the fiery sacrifice, doesn’t look all that terrifying, does he? Although one does sometimes feel as if one were being trampled by the hooves of a large animal when the heat is at its peak.

Happy as I am to see him go, I suspect that Agni will be reluctant to depart so abruptly, and that the crackling of his flaming crown, and the clopping of his mount’s hooves, may be heard faintly, if I pay attention, for quite a while yet.

Three Views of a Marriage Band

Deep in the Jungle...

... a rare flower

cocoons hanging from the trees

a lost city

precious artefacts

... the end of the party

Pain Relief

On the third day of the Pongal festival I took a photograph of a sidewalk shrine: a few lithographs of gods, surmounted by a tiled picture of Lord Hanuman, fastened to a compound wall; but decorated with flowers, and with a pretty kolam design for the festival. Slapped onto an adjacent utility box were ads for "PAIN RELIEF CLINIC".

I thought, Well, this place itself is probably a pain relief clinic for someone, if only for the person (not in evidence when I passed) who tends the shrine. And it gave pleasure to me, too, when I stopped for a moment on a beautiful, quiet morning.

A Morning Walk After Rain

My second video is a road movie:

A Quiet Day

I've made a little video, my first:

Coonoor, Corrugated

The Day After the Night Before

The party’s over
It’s time to call it a day

 

They’ve burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away

Now you must wake up, all dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party’s over

______________________

(at Taj West End, Bangalore)
(lyrics from The Party's Over, By Betty Comden and Adolph Green)

Madikeri: leaf water sky

Footpath Ganesh

Kolam for Pongal

It's the second day of the Pongal festival. In the morning I walked around my neighbourhood, photographing the rice flour kolam patterns which women (in this area, they are generally servants) make outside their gates. All of these feature the clay pot in which newly harvested rice is boiled until it overflows with abundance; and stalks of sugarcane.

I saw a lot of colour this year -- unlike the traditional south Indian kolam patterns, which are made from white rice flour. I like the plain ones better -- but what do I know?

New Years Day, 2013

I went out at 8:30 in the morning. The grounds of the hotel were completely empty and silent, as though everybody had danced themselves into a deep, fairy-tale sleep. I walked around taking photographs of sunbeams filtering through the tall trees.

I passed the little temple to Ganesha, who looks after beginnings. A hotel employee, the first person I had seen, was sitting on a bench, praying. As I passed he finished, stood up, and rang the temple bell three times. Suddenly I heard voices from all sides, as though he had signaled for the world to wake up.

Calcutta / Instagram

A few photos which I took in Calcutta / Kolkata in October:

The Taj Bengal hotel

breakfast (the most attractive part, at least)

dawn, over Calcutta's big sky

a morning walk behind the hotel (red rooftop in the distance), crossing a bridge over Tolley's Nullah

Bhowanipore War Cemetery

perhaps this does not mark a warrior's grave, but it touched me

A side street in Bhowanipore

a lively morning market in the narrow streets across from the War Cemetery. A butcher.

 a temporary vegetable market

freshwater fish

 a water tower, I suppose. what colours and shapes!

 Durga puja. The demon victim and the lion vehicle are looking equally apprehensively at the goddess, who is not overly concerned about where her spear-point is going.

 puja implements in a small pandal, waiting for the priest

The City of Contradictions

Going through old things I'd written, getting ready for a visit to Kolkata, I found this forgotten scrap:

The City of Contradictions

The girl walks on her knees.
Her feet end at the ankles:
she was caught in a contradiction.

People live inside the window
which is inches from your window.

From the corner of your eye
a wedding band
  marching
    away
      from
         you

The rickshaw-puller clangs his
dull bell, waiting to drag you
to the innermost chamber.

Jasmine at the burning ghat.
Friend, whose ashes are these? 

Instagram

Some instagram photos, taken in the last couple of months:

frangipani

 a water lorry's hubcap

 the door of a small, portable shrine

 a rice flour kolam pattern

 dinner at On the Rocks

 the swimming pool at Radisson Temple Bay

wild mushrooms grow among tree roots after the rain

High Dive

I took a high dive from a pair of grass-green platform shoes once in Boston Garden, in the Spring. The weather was wonderful, sunny and warm. I wore a long dress in a floral print, which I had sewn myself. I felt as stylish and beaufitul as I ever could, which seemed like a LOT. An old man passed me and said, "You look like the spirit of Spring." And I did!

Just-like-that I toppled from my pedestals, thunderstruck, onto my knees on the pathway. A man approached with a look of sympathy and said, "Need any help?"

I smiled a gallant smile, gathered myself, and walked home barefooted, swinging my green shoes from one hand.