FYI

I'm letting go of the sievings.org domain, but this blog will remain accessible at http://eightandtwenty.blogspot.com.

We're Moving!

Time it was, time said, to move on. So here we are - my blog and I - newly aboard at Zero Summer. See you there, then?

On Sievings

Dear Sievings,

I've loved having you around, and you've been a friend indeed. However, I've been feeling a tension of sorts lately, a need to branch out. Where to, I do not know. Why, too, I do not know. I do want you to be around still, as a sweet remembrance. You have taught me much that I thank you for. I now feel an itch to don a new hat, though. One of these days, it will be time.

But I could never forget you. The seeds that you have planted will continue to grow and bear fruit. There can be no doubt about that.

Love,

8&20

Another way of telling

Yesterday, I found myself amidst quite a struggle. Perhaps this will sound selfish, perhaps altogether inane, but I'll share it with you nonetheless. 

In Blossom (the best book shop in Bangalore, or the world for that matter) yesterday, I was looking for a book on photography to give as a present. Not the usual "how to take good pictures" kind of stuff, but really "something more" without knowing what this "more" was. Well, I absolutely stumbled upon this book (nothing quite explains why I was drawn to something that didn't strike a chord at all, at first). As I walked myself through the first few pages, I found that this was it. It really was just the book I'd been looking for. Every page enthralled. I was in love. There was no question of "to buy or not to buy".

Yet, now the question was - "to keep or not to keep". I felt rather shameless reconsidering, and for the thought of getting another book for my friend (after all, I reasoned, how was I to know if she'd love this one just as much as I did.) The truth is, though, that it didn't matter. In a second, I realized that as soon as the decision was made - I'd always feel terrible if I kept it, and I'd always feel happier if I brought myself to part with it for good reason. Thence the doubt disappeared. Doubt is like that, isn't it? It just disappears.

Anyway, it is still a book I'd recommend highly to you all (I intend to buy it right away!)- if photography interests you, even as a faraway subject. It also encouraged me to document my own journey as a photographer a little better. There is such immense joy in discovering another go through the same questions as oneself.  Narcissists we are indeed!

This post was meant to be about a landmark on this journey, not so much about photo at a meta-level, but perhaps next time. Good night, all!

On 'old children'

While I would have liked for this blog to dutifully serve as a travelog, it has been a while since I really penned my thoughts on the travel I've been doing. There is some comfort in the thought that photos are making up for this, to some degree. Anyway, this post is inspired by memories of Malwa, etched in my brain as my first (and most delightful) tryst with rustic bliss. 

Of course, words have found their way out of my head so as to be replaced by Tagore's. I no longer fret about not being able to write like him. I don't need to. He already reads my thoughts like a mirror:

Sometimes one or other of our simple, devoted old ryots comes to see me - and their worshipful homage is so unaffected! How much greater than I are they in the beautiful simplicity and sincerity of their reverence. What if I am unworthy of their veneration - their feeling loses nothing of its value.

I regard these grown-up children with the same kind of affection as I have for little children - but there is also a difference. They are more infantile still. Little children will grow up later on, but these big children never.

A meek and radiantly simple soul shines through their worn and wrinkled old bodies. Little children are merely simple, they have not the unquestioning, unwavering devotion of these. If there be any undercurrent along which the soul of men may have communication with one another, then my sincere blessing will surely reach and serve them.

A Day to Remember

I hadn't realized how long it had been since I was left with a day to myself - in entirety and without responsibility. As I found myself in the midst of just such a one, I rejoiced in watching it amble past me - slowly, as the hours turned.

It was a day spent with music, with writing, with photos. With friends and family, albeit remotely. It was a day spent with myself and my solitude. Poetic that does sound; and indeed, the day was beautiful like poetry.

Empty Offices

What is it about empty offices that is somehow so comforting? It's my second Saturday at Srishti, and I'm loving the peace and quiet it brings. Of course, it's true that I don't feel much like working either. Feeling inspired, I went through my un-put-up photos from the past few weeks and put them up. Now I feel like writing.

Maybe I should go home to get some work done :).

Bangalore

This is my fourth and final stretch in Bangalore, and although I've taken several captures to remember it by, perhaps it also merits a post. I sit here then, and wonder - what comes to mind when I think Bangalore? The people first - those who have floated in and out of life ever so seamlessly, bringing with them moments of happiness. Bangalore brought me to meet a friend I hadn't seen in 21 years, a close friend from high school whom I met after 12, several friends from college - some close, some not so close... I also made new acquaintances, forged new friendships, and all of these trysts helped make my stay at Bangalore lovely and memorable. So when I think Bangalore, these will always be the first to come to mind.

And then, the place. Bangalore offered so many and varied experiences. The guest house, in its calmness and serenity, welcomed me each time I entered its vast, green landscape. Even as I sit and type these words, I hear the wind brush against the leaves outside, knowing I will always remember it with great fondness. Outside the guest house, I have gradually developed a deeper acquaintance with Yelahanka - on foot, in a car, bus, auto, motorbike, scooter... And this reminds me to mention the traffic in which the entire city is ever afloat. Indeed, Bangalore would not be Bangalore without it.

At first glance, I loved how green Bangalore was, though I must admit that I've gotten rather used to it and now take its shades for granted. The weather, of course, is to die for. Where else in India does one need to keep a shawl at hand, at all times? I love the breeze, and rejoice when it turns to wind. Indeed, there is a natural air-conditioning that Bangalore is blessed with. And when it rains, it feels as though the heavens are pouring.

Mmm, that about covers it all, doesn't it? And yet, I've clearly done no justice whatsoever. I promise to try harder next time.

Where does it go?

I just typed a comment in response to Peevee's post. When I first read over it, this is what I saw:

blah. blah blah :).
blah blah. :)

Do you see what I see? At first I winced at the inconsistency in the two lines. A second later, as I read the words and relived the emotions, I realized that there was a reason, be it somewhat obscure:

Ha. Too busy with the darling little kid, I assume :).
I suppose you picked the right forum to get through to her. :)

The first line was conceived of with a smile, while the second came out as a reflection and was followed by a smile. Get it? How interesting is that? :)

:).

Enough Already

Life's lesson for me today is to stop writing, thinking, talking, discussing... just BE. There's just no other way out of this mess. Got that?