नीरव संध्या में प्रशान्त,
ड़ूबा है सारा ग्राम प्रान्त।

पत्रों के आनत अधरों पर,
सो गया निखिल वन का मरमर,
ज्यों वीणा के तारों मे स्वर।

झिंगुर के स्वर का प्रचुर तीर,
केवल प्रशांति को रहा चीर,
इस महाशांति को कर गंभीर।

[Words by Sumitranandan Pant, I dont remember from where, and lines might be slightly wrong, send corrections please]
[Image taken by me from a train somewhere near Mathura, 2003]

The Messiah

Once there lived a village of creatures along the bottom of a great crystal river.

The current of the river swept silently over them all — young and old, rich and poor, good and evil, the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self.

Each creature in its own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current what each had learned from birth.

But one creature said at last, ‘I am tired of clinging. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, I trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and let it take me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom.’

The other creatures laughed and said, ‘Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you tumbled and smashed across the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom!’

But the one heeded them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed by the current across the rocks.

Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more.

And the creatures downstream, to whom he was a stranger, cried, ‘See a miracle! A creature like ourselves, yet he flies! See the Messiah, come to save us all!’

[Words: from Richard Bach’s Illusions]
[Image: Taken by me at Rock Graden, Chandigarh, 2006]

Jal bhar de …

आसमान का रंग बदल रहा था।
रात कच्ची पड़ रही थी।
कोई पंच्छी पास के पेड़ से उड़ा,
और सुबह को लाने आसमान की तरफ़ निकल गया।
वह पुल के उस किनारे पर आकर खड़ी हो गयी,
जहाँ से अगला कदम,
ज़िन्दगी का आखरी कदम था।

एक भोले-भाले भेड़ के बच्चे ने उसे रोक लिया।
गड़रिये भटकी हुई भेड़ों को राह दिखाते हैं।
ईसा भी यही करते थे।
उसका हाथ पकड़ कर वह उसे अपने घर ले गया।

अरे! ताल से पानी सुखा है,
आसमान तो नहीं सुख गया?
फिर मेघ आएगा,
फिर जल भरेगा,
चल …

[Words: By Gulzar, from the song “Jal Bhar De”, in the album “Sunset Point”. You can listen to the entire song here]

[Image: Taken at Khajiyaar, Himachal Pradesh, 2006]

* And obviously the header image of Images and Words is clipped out of this image.


अम्बरचुम्बी हिमशृंगों से कलरव कोलाहल साथ लिए,
विद्युत सी प्राणमयी धारा बहती जिसमे उन्माद लिए,

{Lines from Kamayani by Jaishankar Prasad, self-describing lines uttered by Lajja (shyness/restraint pesonified) while explaining her own nature to Shraddha}
{Image: Ravi river near Chamba, Himachal Pradesh, 2006. It didn’t take more than half a second exposure to get that flow effect}

And I clubbed my another old blog Images and Words, with this blog. And did this to retain the effect. 🙂

The End

See the coins in the back denoting the conventional material world, wealth, success. And the ash tray, the cigarette denoting succumbing to the gray. The gray overrides the conventional. It is closer to you, more prominent in the frame.
You give up the laughter (the joy of the conventional game) and the lies (the rules of the conventional game), and transition from the material mattering so much to where it just does not matter anymore. It hurts at first to end that game you played with your sweat and your blood. But you know it does not have any more for you. It will not follow you. It’s not your fascination anymore. The old rules are gone. The old game is over. You are no longer trying to die. Perhaps, in some ways you are dead already. The passing over to the new world. The End.
(Words by Sumit Mudgal, a friend)
(Image: taken by Sumit’s cam by me, June 2005. Edited by Sumit)

Total Perspective Vortex

The Total Perspective Vortex derives its picture of the whole Universe on the principle of extrapolated matter analyses.

To explain – since every piece of matter in the Universe is in some way affected by every other piece of matter in the Universe, it is in theory possible to extrapolate the whole of creation – every sun, every planet, their orbits, their composition and their economic and social history from, say, one small piece of fairy cake.

For when you are put into the Vortex you are given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, and somewhere in it a tiny little marker, a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, which says “You are here.”

(By Douglas Adams, of course)
(Image: Nihal and Rohan at my ex-office in Gurgaon, 2004, image taken from a Rohan’s camera phone, and to hell with copyright)