Life through a lens

July 14, 2009: a friend and I walked towards Eiffel tower to view and photograph the Bastille Day fireworks. Tripods and camera gear on the shoulders, we tried to get in the vicinity of Eiffel tower for photography but to no avail. People sat on the bridges, the gardens, along the river everywhere, with friends, picnic baskets spread next to them sharing laughter and smiles. All routes were packed with Parisians and tourists blocked in their quest to get nearer to Tour Eiffel by Gendarmes.

Having tried three different approaches to the tower, feet starting to hurt and the time for fireworks drawing near, we decided to go towards Passy bridge for the next vantage point. Once there, we found there was hardly any place to even think of setting my tripod without obstructing somebody else’s view.   For that matter, there were people six to eight lines deep and I did not want to shoot without my tripod.   My friend and I parted ways here – he stayed on the bridge not wanting to miss the fireworks and I moved further down the Seine with Passy bridge in the foreground as one looked towards the Eiffel tower.

I was able to set up my tripod farther along the river.   I tried calling him but could not get through.  Even though it was not the best vantage point but I had no choice.  We should have come much earlier to scout a better location.

After the fireworks were over, a hazy smoke loitered in the air around Eiffel tower providing an orange glow as if the structure was on fire.

Larger versions in the form of a slideshow of these pics and some more may be seen in my archive.

On the occasion of Bastille day, I remembered the time and thought of putting these pics for my friends.
To my friends in France, wish you a happy Bastille day!

“Venezia Santa Lucia”, the train station.  My train from Rome comes to a halt and I eagerly get off not wanting to waste any of my precious time here.  The weather gods had not been kind the past few days and I was prepared for a rainy dream.  It had always been my dream to visit Venice; specially during Venice Carnival when people masquerade in elaborate costumes and Venetian masks.

It was raining when I got to my hotel, five minutes from Piazza San Marco, behind Teatro La Fenici.  Having parked my belongings, I came to the piazza just as it drizzled slow and steady.  As I walked, shielding my camera, the sky started to open up and smile.  I would actually get to see the sunset this evening.  The light was  breathtaking and for a change, I forgot to click, telling myself that I will have a couple more days.  Little did I know that this would be the best light I will see on this trip.

The next day, I walked around photographing architecture, people and the colorful window displays in the galleries and shops. Narrow streets connected by bridges over a network of canals, it was easy to lose oneself, literally. The museums and palazzos in Venice close early. In between visiting the beautiful churches, palazzos, I could not indulge myself with a Gondola ride. But indulge I did, in other ways, with scoops of delicious gelato and omnipresent pizza. I was in heaven!

I had bought a pass for the water taxi.  This way, I could get around without too much hassle.  This turned out to be a good decision.   The sun and the rain gods were being mischievous, playing hide-and-seek, determined to make this trip more memorable.

When it rains, it pours and by god, it poured hard. People huddled under umbrellas as they tried to enjoy a soggy gondola ride. Even, some of the gondoliers brought out umbrellas as they went about earning their livelihood.

I was happy as adversity brings different, maybe better, opportunities. And, the rains brought me some different pictures…something different…

After a good downpour, the sun decided to trade places, making the dream, even more beautiful.

I did not shoot too many night photos in Venice. By the time, I got back to hotel, I felt too tired to lug my tripod around especially in the rains. No pain, no gain. Maybe, Venice will call me again. I will wait. It is just the beginning….my Venetian dream.

A few days back in Florence, Italy, I heard beautiful notes wafting in the air. There seemed to be no musician in the vicinity.

Walking along, I came upon a nook in the wall celebrating “the end” with graffiti. An immaculately dressed gentleman sat there playing the violin. At ease with himself and his surroundings, he continued playing as we exchanged smiles. As the music played, I asked for his permission and photographed him at peace surrounded by the chaotic graffiti.

Violinist in Florence

Children are an immense source of wonder, inspiration and quite theatrical at times. They may be little but observant and some pick up mannerisms quickly. I have always loved photographing kids and observing the cute little things they do. Being with them may teach us patience, at times, and the moments, if not captured, go by quickly.

I feel fortunate and blessed to observe my niece at close quarters in the everyday things she does.  I marvel at how she picks up new things and her curiosity, her ability to grasp new things.

Here are some of the moments she presented to me…

At the playground, she loves to play with the swing, the slide and to pick up and throw the little pieces of playground surface materials like wood chips and shredded bark mulch.  On being asked what she is doing as she throws the chips away, she always replies – ‘tafai!’

(i.e. she is doing ‘safai’ in Hindi or cleaning up the place).

On the steps up to the slide, it is time for a peek-a-boo. As she says, ‘peet-a-boo!’  Here, she is lost in thoughts after pausing for a peek-a-boo moment.

Peek-a-boo

At the beach, she totally loved the sand and the way the grains flew in the wind. Her mom showed her how to cup sand with hands and release it slowly. The little kid spent the next hour ‘showering her baby’ with sand.

Sand shower for her baby

In the afternoon light with the sun on her shoulders, she pauses her play to look at me through the tunnel in her tent.

Through a tunnel of love

When I showed her how to hold a small drum, she would remember the ‘dam-moo’ (for damroo) from time to time. Here she surprised me by bringing the drum to me and then, proceeding to drum up her own beat.  Her expression says it all.  The delights of drumming.  Maybe, we will join a drum circle one day.

Delight of drumming

The water baby that she is, she loves getting into water.  She is taking swimming lessons.  When you ask her what she did on the day of the class, she would say in a sweet, lilting voice – ‘teet-teet!’ For the uninitiated, it is ‘kick! kick!’ as instructed by her swim teacher.  On this particular day, she started the water in jacuzzi, stood on the edge and wanted to ‘teet-teet’.  Here, she shows us the fish as the water drains after this soak session.

My fish

Yes, she is all of a year and a half!

Long back I wrote -
“At any point in life, the child within, devoid of any sophistry, wants to roam free. But, the adult self, having learnt the artificiality and bound by the society, walks in the direction opposite. This is life, at the crossroads, where the child and the adult meet……”

And, I get to see her at the crossroads everyday.

One of the most beautiful, exquisite chapels that I have ever visited has to be Sainte-Chapelle, in the center of Paris. This gem of the gothic architecture is hidden in Ile-de-la-cite, Paris.

I had seen street signs pointing to this church before; there are so many beautiful churches in Paris that I never thought about going there. Last year, as I sat chatting with a friend over dinner, he casually mentioned Sainte-Chapelle and its beautiful stained glass windows. I have been able to visit it a couple of times since then.

A little history here: Sainte-Chapelle was built between 1242 and 1248 to house the relics of Passion of Christ by the king, Louis IX (later beatified as Saint Louis). Sainte-Chapelle and the Conciergerie, are the only visible remains of the oldest palace of kings of France.

The building houses two sanctuaries – the lower chapel, for the palace staff and the upper chapel, for the king and his close friends and family. The upper chapel is airy, monumental and exquisitely decorated with sculptures and thin lattice framework supporting the stained glass till the ceiling. In every home, there is usually a personal place of worship and/or meditation; Sainte-Chapelle was the royal palatine chapel for Louis IX.

I have tried to record the architecture details, the XIIIth century stained glass, and the beauty that I see in Sainte-Chapelle. Photos are slowly being added to be viewed as a slide show in my Sainte-Chapelle gallery. But, photographs do not always do justice.

Hopefully, when you visit Paris, you will able to experience Sainte-Chapelle for yourself. Happy travels!

Street Art / Graffiti is quite widespread in Paris. The presence of so much graffiti surprised me the first time I took the train from Charles De Gaulle airport to the city of Paris, many many years back. I have been photographing graffiti and street art over the years; some of it is beautiful and some very jarring to the eyes in this romantic city. Then again, beauty is in the eyes of the beholden.

I found this lamp post in the center of Paris on a misty night. A young romantic had painted the heartfelt emotions to be lit up every night. J’adore Paris!

Of late, I do not feel satisfied with the photographs I have been taking. Most of them look nicely composed but too obvious. These do not seem to take my mind on an imaginary trip. When a photo taken us into another realm, that would make it a successful photo for me. There is that third dimension that is missing from what I have been shooting.

Last night, I photographed these as I walked home. The photograph of the commuter in a hat and overcoat looked like a painting to me – not perfect but has a mood to it.

Where do I go?

A couple hundred meters further down the street, I photographed another cyclist :

Paris commuter at night

To see these in bigger size as a slide show, please check this link: Paris commuters at night

Now, my questions to you: Which one appeals to you more? Why?
Do you care to share your views or any thoughts on the perceived third dimension in a photograph?

Meeting interesting people is one of the privileges of photography. For a complete stranger to trust my camera, for them to allow me to take their portrait is an enriching experience.  At the end of a session, we part as friends having shared a few clicks.

I met Tony Riga on the banks of the Seine in Paris, France.

"My identity"

It was a beautiful evening in Paris and I was out walking along Seine with my camera when I saw a man with a fantastic painted mask posing for pictures with two friends. Introducing myself, I offered to take their picture. I spoke little french and they spoke little English.  After taking a couple of pictures, the friends of Tony left.

Language aside, we were able to communicate.  Here are a couple of portraits from the photo session with Tony who it later turned out is a multi-talented person with many interests.  Tony self-painted this beautiful Guyanese face mask as well.

"Holding my thoughts"

"Within reach"

I have many wonderful pictures from the session with Tony that I hope to share at a later time.

Thank you Tony for being there for my camera!

History and Architecture holds a spell-binding fascination for me.  When I visit Gwalior, I try and revisit the historical monuments to relive the countless moments I spent here as a child.  Yesterday, I visited Ek Patthar ki Baori (aka Gopachal Parwat) where artisans painstakingly carved twenty six giant statues of Jain Tirthankars in stone.

The ride on the motorcycle, a converted Yamaha RX100, was a great feeling, as usual, a slow ride with no helmet.  With the warm dusty breeze on my face as I rode along, I reached the rocky terrain at the slopes of Gwalior Fort.

The local Jain community has worked wonders around the monument, having cleaned and landscaped the whole area.  Gardens have sprung up around the base of the Fort, with walls built to harvest rainwater, to irrigate the trees that have been planted.  The area is very clean, quite a contrast to what I had seen before.   I also had to take off my shoes as the community deems it to be a religious holy place.  So, I walked up the small but arduous climb barefoot on the path, landscaped with rough cut stones and cement.  My feet were burning as I stepped on the stones but happily, I climbed to the monument, in anticipation of photographing the beautiful sculptures.

As I reached the monument, I was impressed.  The statues have been cleaned and well-maintained.  There are twenty six statues of Jain Tirthankars in various upright and seated positions.  There is a mention of the monuments being built around 1424 a.d. under the reign of Tomar King Dungar Singh in an inscription in one of the caves.  Built between 1398-1536 by kings of Tomar dynasty, these are quite a spectacle to behold.

Ek Patthar ki baori is in the first cave, a water reservoir carved out of a single stone.  Honey bees swarmed around as I peeked into the locked baori.  As I photographed the details of the statues, a group of pilgrims came up to pray.  I quickly took a couple of photos to show the scale of the statues.

The largest idol of Bhagwan Parshwanath seated on a Lotus is the largest single stone carved statue in the world.  It is 47 feet high and 30 feet wide and extremely difficult to photograph in its entirety.  More on this later…

Here is a photograph of the row of statues as seen from an opening in the rock…