An Owl's Eye View
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Co-Passenger
Badarika was rushing back to her home after spending the almost full day in weekly hath of Bodega, Orisha. She looked very pleased because finally she managed to buy a goat for her 5-year-old grandson. These mofussil weekly markets like Bodega serve as a lifeline to tribal people. Periodically, people from near and far villages gather at markets to get their daily commodities. Small vendors and traders of rural areas used to sell their products at the 'haat'. It may be utensils, groceries, cattle, clothes for kids, bed sheets, bamboo products, fish, meat or any other item of daily use, these bazaars were considered to be the best option. But things are changing fast. In absence of proper infrastructural facilities, the shop owners and customers are facing difficulties which are gradually affecting the trade. The lack of infrastructure includes no permanent shelters for shop owners, the absence of toilets especially for women and most important the lack of drinking water facilities.
The Observant Owl firmly believes these rural markets are part and parcel of Tribal culture as well as it contributes a lot to the rural economy. So their well being is important for India.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Rubbing Away Reminders
The owl flies far and neigh, and on finds both beauty and sadness. This one is about that later thing. The owl saw this deliberate effort to rub off a memory, and these wise came to mind:
“Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Until next time...
The Observant Owl
P.S : if you want to talk to this owl please you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Songs Blossom
“Spring, it is time to tell
The flowers to open.
The leaves are whispering now
With expectation.”
Rabindranath Tagore, translated by William Radice
It is that time of the year when everything is beautiful. Flowers and leaves, birds and bees are charged with new life. To welcome spring, Santhali villages around Shantiniketan hold communal ceremonies where they sing songs of fertility and dance together.
May this spring brings blossoms to your life.
Until next time,
The Observant owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
An old one, but a good one.
As the owl flies far afield, meeting new people, having new experiences, and generally gathering paradise, it is inevitable that one starts to question one got here. This one here is an early story that the owl pieced together over 4 years.
https://ruralindiaonline.org/albums/lost-on-the-island-and-then-found-or-forgotten
The owl hopes you enjoy browsing through it again as much has he did.
Until next time...
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On Seeing
"My fancies are fireflies: specks of living light twinkling in the dark. The same voice murmurs in these desultory lines, which is born in wayside pansies letting hasty glances pass by. The butterfly does not count years but moments, and therefore has enough time." - Rabindranath Tagore
The Grand Old Man of Owl City, wrote these beautiful lines that illuminate what the Owl observes. Here's to following the living twinkling lights to find more wayside pansies and other hidden treasures, in street corners, our everyday commutes, and epic adventures at the edge of the world. The Owl hope you have a adventure filled year ahead.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Flying across deep blue skies
This old owl went for a very long journey up north. The land was all golden brown gravel and peaks reaching into the deepest of blue skies that are speckled with weightless, white clouds. In short, breathtaking.
The owl would like to share some of these vistas with you. He hopes you'll enjoy them.
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Landscapes/Pages/Durer-Poridrishho-Distant-Vist
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Finding your Tribe
A week to go in Owl City until Durga Puja - under the general humm of activity, the you can feel the anticipation singing, coursing through the busyness. Pandals being put together, idols being shaped, clothes being bought, houses being cleaned.
More than anything, Durga Puja is about being with your community, reconnecting with your tribe. The Observant Owl hopes you take the time this Durga Puja to find your tribe and reaffirm your connections.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On bidding goodbyes and annual waits
Every year we bring the divine into our homes. They stay for a time and then we give them a grand send-off. They make their way down rivers and streams, to assimilate with the infinite.
As we say our goodbye’s for the year, there is a sense of having lost a revered guest, a benevolent presence from our lives. There is also a sense of hope, that the cycle will repeat itself next year, and our house will be filled with blessings and festivities again.
The owl had the opportunity to capture such a procession some years ago and he hopes you enjoy it.
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/Of-Immersions-and-Processions
Until next time...
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Celebrating the environs
The Sun scorches, and the Owl hides in shaded nooks. Others, less fortunate, have to go about their day with little succor. As another World Environment Day zips by, the Owl urges you to think, what power it holds in our lives - it can fill awkward gaps in conversations, it can also cause you to faint from exhaustion, or cause you die from the lack of heat, or render you homeless in an instant. I can also fill your heart with joy from rain and bird call, or feed your family, and hold all life-forms in delicate balance.
Isn’t it a weird and wonderful thing? How are you paying your homage? How are you celebrating the Environment?
Until next time...
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Little sachets of joy.
The yellow-brown expanse of dirt was broken only by the frugal leaves of the 'baavad' bush. Bright white sunlight slowly baked the earth and cast sharp shadows. The afternoon was woken up by the rumble of a pick-up truck, decked out with strings of goodies in colorful packaging.
Noor Mohammad and his son, Altaf, bring with them little luxuries of life - biscuits, sweets, tobacco, chocolates. They ride around the grazing pastures of Kachachh, and visit Fairs, with the mobile shop in their pick up truck, selling little sachets of joy.
The owl couldn't help observing - "it doesn't take much to make one happy, or one can have everything and still not be happy." My dear urban audience, as you walk down streets lined by window displays, as you stand in ATM queues, and then go off to run other errands, I urge you to pause. Pause and think what makes you really happy. Can you give up what you're doing right now, and still be happy? Give it up. Simplify your life. Live lightly.
Until next time...
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Molding Greatness
Another afternoon, another perch. The owl found this beautiful space where artisans mold earth into the likeness of the Greats we like to have around as touchstones of values in our lives. Give a thought to the labor of love that goes into making these idols. And another thought to what these idols represent. And finally a thought to 'What did you do today to incorporate these values in your daily life?'
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
The Road Ahead
“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”-Max Planck
Nomad roughly translates to banjara in Hindi,jajabor in Bangla and we are well accustomed to the negative connotations these terms have in our ‘civilised’ vocabularies. However, judging against the parameters of our lives, we are probably too hasty in our conclusions about them. A sense of home, albeit different from the one we know, exists in their heart and in the motion of life. The hardest terrains cultivate the strongest bonds of trust, far removed from the madness of fighting over etching lines on maps to call one's own. The owl shares the love of the nomads for distant uncharted places. As we usher in the new year, the owl urges you to try and look at your life through the eyes of a nomad and rediscover the simplicity and trust that get lost in the maddening rush of consumerism.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Song of the open road
"Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose."
- Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman
As you walk home loaded down with holiday shopping, feeling the warm glow of cozy consumerism, the owl urges you to consider Ayub. He and his wife Rabia don't own anything they can't carry. The owl had the privilege of coasting with them briefly and hopes to see them again some time. Meanwhile, this New Year, this owl will resolve to tread more lightly on this earth.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
The Divine Tango
The new moon of Karthik is nearing and the nights are getting darker to set the stage for the cosmic interplay between Shiva and Shakti. Idol makers from Kumartuli are immortalizing a moment in myth from memory that has been handed down to them from the mists of time – Kali accidental stepping on Shiva as she danced with abandon on a pile of demon corpses. This is not the stuff of vanilla romances one sees on billboards regularly. It's messy, violent, embarrassing and complicated. But it works. I hope this Kali Puja, you take a moment to reflect on the tangos you tango. The owl would like to leave you with some wise advice “That’s what makes the tango so great. If you make a mistake, get all tangled up, just tango on” - Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade, Scent of a Woman (1992)
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
The Little Krishna
"Arjuna, people worship limited deities,limited as they are by their nature and their yearnings.From me comes their faith.From me comes fulfilment of their faith. The restricted stay restrained. Those who shatter the boundaries discover me : The limitless".
Though Lord Krishna defined himself in the most apt way in "Bhagavad Gita" (Chapter 7, verses 20-23) but still in India he is adored as "Kanhaiya" because for every mother, her child is her Krishna.
Until next time..
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
When the sky falls
The Owl City is still recovering from the shock of the sky literally falling over their heads. The crows are already hurling angry blame-balls at each other. Before we loose ourselves in the all consuming circus of pinning blame, the owl would like you to be still for a moment and think about the families that lost loved ones, about families whose lives will be irreversibly interrupted due to injury and disability. And finally, the owl would like you to spare a thought about all brave, energetic workmen who were responsible for clearing debris, saving lives and trying to restore a modicum of normalcy to the shocked city. This is in solidarity to all these people.
Until next time..
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Riders Of The Roof
Greetings everyone. The Owl isn't going to waste anytime here and plunge straight into a history lesson.
When the Railways arrived in India in the 19th century, different regional networks sprung up. Scindhias, the rulers of the Gwalior State, started the Gwalior Light Railway. The route covers a distance of 210 km, and is now the longest remaining narrow gauge line in the world.
The No. 271 Passenger train on this line is the only through train that connects the outpost of Sheopur Kalan to Gwalior. It runs at a stately speed of up to 30 Kmph and trip takes 10.5 hours. No points for guessing the Owl flew there to check in out.
The train leaves Gwalior at 06:25. The Owl reached Gwalior station at 6 am, bought a Rs. 29 ticket and got on the train, it was already crowded with commuters. The train has 7 coaches and has a capacity of 150 - 200 passengers. But it carries at least twice that capacity everyday. Passengers cram themselves into the coaches, hang by the side, and climb on the roof.
Despite the crush of people, the co-passengers helped him on board and tried to accommodate him. At the Ghosipura station, the Owl went up to the driver's cabin and Mr. Khan, the driver, allowed him to ride in the engine for a bit. This Owl was very excited about riding on the roof. But he found out it isn't without its perils. The crossbeams of some truss bridges on the route have low clearance. While some passengers dismount, others lie flat on their backs to avoid getting hit.
The train traveled through beautiful mustard fields, crossed streams and barren landscapes. What this Owl remembers the most about the day though, was the warmth with which he was treated.
HERE ARE SOME IMAGES FROM THE DAY ...
http://roadsandkingdoms.com/2016/the-forgotten-trains-of-india/
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comgreatindianrailwaystrainridersdailylifepassengersroofnarrowgaugelocomotives
On Changing Calendars and Brave New Directions
We've all stepped into a brand new year and we're all filled with anticipation about what it holds for us. It is also the time of the year when the Owl City hosts pilgrims making their way to take a holy dip at Gangasagar. Mendicants and god-men, faithfuls and laypeope, all follow the same route hoping that an auspicious start will mean a great year ahead.
They form another note in the ebb and flow of the city. Like clockwork, they arrive, gather for a few moments and then melt away without a trace. Only to reappear, to mark the passage of time. What does the future hold for them? What does the future hold for us? More of the same? Or will we go out in brave, new, unknown directions? Will our resolutions wilt like unattended flowers? Will we live up to the adage: the more things change, more they remain the same?
Here are a few frames to linger over, as you mull these questions:
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/The-Sun-the-Sea-a-Holy-Dip
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
'Tis the time to swing and be merry
“Tonight’s December thirty-first,
Something is about to burst.
The clock is crouching, dark and small,
Like a time bomb in the hall.
Hark, it's midnight, children dear.
Duck! Here comes another year!”
~ Ogden Nash
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On Sauntering
The Owl has been learning Walking or Sauntering, if you will. Thoreau was an ardent advocate of walking in the wilderness. He wrote "He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea."
The Owl recently met some people whose whole life revolves around walking with their animals.
Fine dust kicked up by the herd obscured the sky but the sun made his presence felt none the less. The animals munched contentedly while this little boy minded them. It was in that moment that the Owl understood what Thoreau - it is here in the wilderness, surrounded by the raw material of life, that one is the most alive.
For regular readers of the blog, this is not the first time this Owl has talked about walking with pastoral nomads. This time he went all the way to the grasslands of Banni to seek out these nomads. And rest assured there will be many more to come. We're working on something very big and very exciting. Stay tuned for more.
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Walking through the Looking Glass
Flying, walking, the owl isn't big on quibbling on semantics. Flying into Kumartuli before Durga Puja feels like walking through the Looking Glass into a bizarre and wondrous place. The whole neighborhood hums with activity. Disembodied parts of colossal giants are being shaped according to a grand design that only the head-kumhar knows.
The owl is tempted to think that 'not knowing' is better. 'Not knowing' gives you the creative license to re-imagine the parts into a different whole. You're like Gulliver on his travels (or was it travails?) or like Alice chasing a rabbit. For a little fly-by with the owl, click here:
Through the Looking Glass
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Galleries/Through-the-looking-glass
If you feel like going on a little trip of your own after this, you can "Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call" just like Jefferson Airplane.
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
KAT
An owl, even an observant one, should keep a safe distance from these sly cats; they can go from licking paws and scratching ears to air borne and bare clawed before one can say hoot! But their grace and beauty is quite mesmerizing. But then the owl asks why re-invent the wheel? Hear it from an old, wise horse's mouth:
I know. I know.
they are limited, have different
needs and
concerns.
but I watch and learn from them.
I like the little they know,
which is so
much.
they complain but never
worry,
they walk with a surprising dignity.
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can't
understand.
- by Charles Bukowski
Until Next Time
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
I get by with a little help from my friends
The owl has been away, flying in a wide arc; he just had the good fortune of nesting with some Tibetan pastoral nomads in Amdo Tibet. It was such a welcome break from the cacophony of Owl City, where buzzwords like deliverable, optimization, efficiency crowd out real conversation. No one talks about the simple joys of owning so little that you can move your life in a day's notice and it takes you a day to make another place your own.
These nomads live on the very edge of ecosystems and lead lives dictated by the needs of their herd. It made the owl question who is the master, and what ownership meant. Their lifestyles are delicately balanced on the patterns of seasons; they are perhaps the most vulnerable to socio-politico-economic pressures as well as changing climate patterns.
They face life with a deeply ingrained, stoic, equanimity. They taught the owl how to be present and mindful in every moment and how to be grateful for every blessing. When you sit down in a warm crowded tent with cups of steaming tea being passed around, in that instant, your daily troubles and concerns don't feel as overwhelming. A gentle tune wafts up from the deep recesses of your head:
"Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends" - The Beatles
Until next time,
The Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Stories from the Road
It has been an incredible journey, made richer by everyone who has supported the owl. It has been his privilege to show you some of the interesting things he comes across during his erratic wanderings. When you're in it for the long haul, it gets lonely sometimes, but the people this owl met on the way have kept him grounded. They've taught him that there are always alternatives to the default, the status quo, and should you choose to be different, you'll be alright. You will learn many things and you'll live to tell many wonderful stories. With these thoughts I'd invite you all to take another look at all the different galleries in this website and revisit those stories.
The Link :-
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio1
Until Next Time
An Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Building on Stories
The owl has been missing from action and many of you have been waiting and quite frankly, the owl feels flattered. He will be forever in your debt for this. Now for where he has been, the short answer is a time warp. The long answer will take the rest of the post.
When one perches on an old joist, one that has supported the roof over centuries of history, one can almost feel all those stories coexisting together - numerous skeins all woven together in a pattern that cannot be defined by any word, except perhaps serendipity.
The owl just sat there, a bit lost, as the strains of history intermingled with the sound of debris falling, dust rising in the air, as the workmen directed the demolition of the 'non-heritage' bits at the Writers' Building
The writers - young ambitious men, half a world away from their homes, bothered by muggy heat, tropical fevers, and homesickness - worked out of here, lived here, and made the stuff of British Empire happen here. They banished thoughts of blighty and memorized words in 'hindoostani' under this roof. With time they made way for private living quarters, shops, godowns, briefly even the Govt. College of Engineering and the East Indian Railway Co.
After the country passed into the direct rule of the British Crown, the Lieutenant General dispensed the administration of the undivided Bengal, the largest province of British India from here. Imagine for a moment, the power to affect the lives of so many millions was house here. May be that is what attracted the three young lads, Binoy, Badal, and Dinesh, to the place, the idea that they would rest control of their destiny if they could take over the Writers'. To this day they stand outside it in frozen animation, Binoy urging his comrades to take matters in their own hands, while his countrymen walk by, chasing dreams of making it big or just content with keeping their heads above water in the flow of system.
The sun finally set on the British Empire and the Commies, just like everyone who ruled from here, added to the structure to suit their needs - almost as if building on this edifice of power is an essential right of passage to gaining legitimacy of power.
Even our did knows that you haven't changed anything until you've changed the very seat of power, except she has taken a different view of 'building upon' and transformed the Writers' Building into the seat of her 'London Dreams'.
The owl was able to observe some of that transformation from his perch. He hopes these frames make you think about the legacy we choose to keep and the one we choose to discard in order to build upon it.
The owl has been missing from action and many of you have been waiting and quite frankly, the owl feels flattered. He will be forever in your debt for this. Now for where he has been, the short answer is a time warp. The long answer will take the rest of the post.
When one perches on an old joist, one that has supported the roof over centuries of history, one can almost feel all those stories coexisting together - numerous skeins all woven together in a pattern that cannot be defined by any word, except perhaps serendipity.
The owl just sat there, a bit lost, as the strains of history intermingled with the sound of debris falling, dust rising in the air, as the workmen directed the demolition of the 'non-heritage' bits at the Writers' Building
The writers - young ambitious men, half a world away from their homes, bothered by muggy heat, tropical fevers, and homesickness - worked out of here, lived here, and made the stuff of British Empire happen here. They banished thoughts of blighty and memorized words in 'hindoostani' under this roof. With time they made way for private living quarters, shops, godowns, briefly even the Govt. College of Engineering and the East Indian Railway Co.
After the country passed into the direct rule of the British Crown, the Lieutenant General dispensed the administration of the undivided Bengal, the largest province of British India from here. Imagine for a moment, the power to affect the lives of so many millions was house here. May be that is what attracted the three young lads, Binoy, Badal, and Dinesh, to the place, the idea that they would rest control of their destiny if they could take over the Writers'. To this day they stand outside it in frozen animation, Binoy urging his comrades to take matters in their own hands, while his countrymen walk by, chasing dreams of making it big or just content with keeping their heads above water in the flow of system.
The sun finally set on the British Empire and the Commies, just like everyone who ruled from here, added to the structure to suit their needs - almost as if building on this edifice of power is an essential right of passage to gaining legitimacy of power.
Even our did knows that you haven't changed anything until you've changed the very seat of power, except she has taken a different view of 'building upon' and transformed the Writers' Building into the seat of her 'London Dreams'.
The owl was able to observe some of that transformation from his perch. He hopes these frames make you think about the legacy we choose to keep and the one we choose to discard in order to build upon it.
You can check glimpses here :-
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Pages/Constructing-heritage
Until Next Time
An Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Reflecting The World.
At the height of the Indian summer, the sun causes the air to boil and low in the gusts. The deadly “loo” is synonymous with heat waves in North India; it causes the muscles to slow cook, like a shawarma, while still on one’s bones.
In 17th century the Mughal Emperor, Shah Jahan, built his capital city, Shahjahanabad which is said to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world at the time. In its walled precincts stands, what is even today, the largest mosque in India, Masjid-i-Jahan-Numa or the Masjid that Reflects the World – more popularly known as the Jama Masjid.
It truly does reflect the world as tourists and faithfuls from all over the world converge here to offer prayers; to marvel at Mughal architecture; to appreciate the graceful sandstone and marble minarets, arches, and domes; just to sit, chat, listen to dastaan-goi storytellers on its steps; or get some respite from the blazing sun.
The summer before last, the owl spent an afternoon perched on a shaded arch and observed the goings on. The tourists gawked while the guides talked. The faithful prayed, while people from far and near sat in shade, and talked in groups, and fanned themselves, while children ran about helter-skelter. This frame is a testament to that blue and gold afternoon.
In two days, the mosque will be full of almost 25,000 men, who will be lead by the Shahi Imam in offering prayer for Eid-ul-Fitr. The owl wishes all his Muslim brothers and sisters Eid Mubarak and hopes that this frame inspires everyone to explore Shahjahanabad and all the other capitals and villages that make up Delhi. This is also a shout out to Prashant Gautam – the owl can never thank you enough for revealing the mysteries of Delhi.
Until next time,
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Dreaming of Clouds
The western sky has been overcast and pouring for the past couple of days and monsoon is truly here. In such a weather there isn't much the owl can do but tuck in his feathers and dream of clearer skies. Flying is out of question while the owl city undergoes the annual ritual cleanse. The streets are wet and minus some of the grime, the air is lighter -relieved of some of the oppressive heat and humidity.
But the owl's heart wants more. It wants glorious sunshine and clear blue skies studded with the lightest white clouds. It wants gusts of winds buoying its wings and a taste of salt in the air. It wants to perch on a wooden mast still being made and observe, from a great distance, tiny ant-sized men laboring away to make a vessel they will never sail in.
The owl leaves you with a framing one such day an hopes it makes you pine for wind blown sunny days too.
Until next time,
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On a Surreal Evening
The owl doesn't think very highly of "mobile clicks" but this one is being presented to illustrate the perils of not carrying a camera around in the Owl City.
If Shakespeare was right about all the word being a stage, the Owl City was probably set for a surrealist production where the duality between dream and reality is finally resolved.
Who would expect to find a salon chair in the middle of the pavement leading to Eden Garden and not a single scissor in sight? And yet there it was framed in all that beautiful fading light, mocking you.
The owl hope this inspires you to pick up a camera and go for a walk.
Until next time,
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
As the Owl Flies
The owl heard a poem once about the owl city from a kindred soul. Since this owl doesn't have a way with words, all he can do is faithfully reproduce them:
I don’t love you for your bhadralok or the machh or the mishti,
It is the stories in folds of your saree.
I sit down with a cup of cha and you will always tell one –
Or make one out of me.
I can’t decide if you’re perpetually stuck in a bad tempered adolescence –
Or are you a wizened withered witch.
I love your sweet sick smell of horseshit and scum and how you parade your poverty
And then you’ll turn around and dazzle me with your intricate delicate richness.
You are convoluted –
Full of ironies and paradoxes –
Stuck in a time warp –
And trying to break free –
Unsure of where to go and what to take along.
When I stumble, you understand
I breathe you and I calm down.
The owl tries to capture these paradoxes day in and day out. Here are some of the better frames:
Where Streets have No Name
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Kolkata-Calcutta-/Galleries/Contemplative-Streets
Visual Diary of a Jay Walker
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Kolkata-Calcutta-/Pages/Visual-Diary-of-a-Jay-Walker
The owl hopes you like these offerings. Also if you want to read the complete poem you can follow this link:
http://onethingilearnt.blogspot.in/2015/05/on-remembering-past-loves.html
Until Next Time.
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Kindness of Strangers
A lady once came to the Owl City and she taught the world a thing or two about kindness. She used to say "Kind words may be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless" It is just these kind words that our brothers and sisters in Nepal need as they get jolted by one earthquake after another. They need our prayers, and support, and all our random acts of kindness to come out of this adversity and everyone must do their bit.
The owl hopes this offering will prompt you to contribute more to the relief and rehabilitation effort.
Until Next Time.
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
The Chancy Charioteers
Two years back at Bhaktapur the weather was warmer and the spring was in full bloom on the slopes of Nepal's when they celebrated their new year with much fanfare and revelry. Here are a few moments that owl was able to frame while keeping the doddering chariot from crashing on him by his sheer will to live and travel further.
But unfortunately this year after this devastating earthquake Owl has a doubt that whether he can see these faces and the chariot back again or not!!!
The Precarious Procession
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/The-Precarious-Procession
Until Next Time.
An Observant Owl
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Lost and Found
The owl likes to hibernate in summer. It tries bury itself in some dark corner to keep the heat at bay. More often than not dark corners are stuffed with dusty, half-forgotten memories. As one is trying to get comfortable, some of it will get kicked up, some it will make its way into one's nostril - causing one to launch in a train sneezes.
Recovering from the sneeze fest, one can rediscover some precious pearl that one had thought one had lost. The owl has the pleasure of presenting just such pearls:
Years ago the owl spent some seasons on the Lion's Isle in the east - except there weren't any lions there to begin with. The owl quite liked the isle which bustled with all sorts of birds from Corporate Crows to Fashionable Glossy Starlings, from Nerdy Egrets to Idealistic Spotted Doves, from the graceful Malay Maynas to the ever twittering Eurasian Tree Sparrows, from the Indian Bulbuls to Chinese Redshanks.
One day, on the way to nowhere in particular, the owl heard a chorus of bird songs. What he found was nothing short of a celebration. Folks - old and new - flocked together to renew memories and make new ones. The captured a few frames as they captured the owl's imagination.
The owl hopes you like the offering. Here's to the transformative powers of memories and wanderings.
In The Streets
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Pages/In-the-Streets
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
Meditations on Yaking
On an overcast morning, as delicate swirls of snowflakes rode gusts of wind, a solitary horse rider abandoned the cozy comfort of his rebo and set out in search of grazing pastures.
Later, over steaming cups of salty tea made from Yak milk, the rider told this owl that with each passing year the winters get more severe and it becomes more difficult for him to find winter pastures for his herd that includes 280 goats, 60 yaks and 70 sheep. His son attends a formal school and won't learn the same things he learnt - how to rear shear sheep, how to milk goats, how to read the sky and lead your herd to safety, how to build a rebo so warm that icey needles of freezing winds cannot enter it, how to invite a complete stranger into it and make him feel at home; these aren't things that can be taught on a blackboard. These are things that get ingrained into oneself and become one's way of life.
The owl believed that being a nomad meant having few possessions and fewer attachments and he had to fly over mountains and cross frozen rivers to unlearn that.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comLiving Lightlyjourneysolo ridehorsemanriderwinterhorseinfinityexpeditioncrossingsurveywanderingpatrolvagabondageroute
Stay Tuned
The owl is off to some rather distant, snow capped environs to seek out new experiences, different perches, and to learn how to Live Lightly.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
The Travelers of the Mind
Graphic Novelist and barn owl Sarnath Bannerjee talks about a special kind of traveler - the Traveler of the Mind who is "uncramped by expensive trans-continental flights or unfriendly immigration staff...who seldom travel in space and almost never in time"
The Owl City is witnessing the annual gathering of such travelers as they crawl out of their cozy niches for the Calcutta Book Fair. Some rue the days, shake their heads and mutter about corporate publishing houses encroaching over what is rightfully theirs and serving it up for the selfie-obsessed masses. Some - with characteristic nonchalance - find a neat little spot and loose themselves in a little journey of discovery.
This one is dedicated to those bibliophiles, book worms, travelers of the mind, and wandering explorers who live many lives and walk many paths and yearn for a world with more poetic justice.
The owl hopes this will make you make that trip, browse through stacks of books, immerse yourself and emerge with a priceless pearl that you can explore at leisure.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.combookbook fairreadingstudylearnknowledgewisdombookwormkolkata
An Oasis in the Desert
“There’s always some room for improvisation” his master said and the disciple improvised for many long years. Today he is an old man himself and considered a master by many.
Over the years he has walked many paths, worn many garbs, wowed many audiences and learnt a few things about life. In his words “ Happiness in life is occasional - temporary. It is alike an oasis, if it wasn’t present the life would be like walking in a desert”
This owl was once fortunate enough to be allowed to perch at ventilators of a certain green room and has never ceased to be awed by the venerable thespian.
As you complete eight decades of your life, Mr. Chatterjee, accept the owl’s wishes for your long life and this humble tribute.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comKolkataCalcuttaBengalSoumitra ChatterjeeTheaterStageThespianActorPoet
Paved with Faith
Season’s greetings from the Observant Owl. A tad late, the owl concedes, but it won't be too little, that is a promise.
This holiday season the owl had been flying over streets crowded with shoppers jostling for discounts and sales. The festie spirit seemed to have been crowded out by glaring, bright window displays and clarion calls for the hottest offers.
But just when the owl’s weary wings were about to give up, the melancholy notes of a violin floated above the din and tugged at the its feather tips. Banking low the owl observed a solitary old gentleman playing Tagore for no one in particular while around him milled an indifferent multitude.
Rejuvenated by the simple faith. the owl plunged into his mouldy mappings and surfaced with these pearls. Displays of faith aren't scarce on the streets of owl city, they are merely scattered. Here are a few of them strung into a necklace:
Paved with Faith
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Galleries/Paved-with-Faith/
The owl is sure some of these are familiar scenes for you. but he hopes you found something new and unexpected too.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On (T)rack
You'd think the owl flies from perch to branch and ghat to bazaar with wings outstretched and the wind singing through the feathers but you could not be more wrong. This owl is a lazy one and would rather hitch a ride than tax its wings. More often than not the owl is perched on the luggage rack of the fast local to Tarakeshwar, drinking in the scent of everyday existence, observing the mundane and the sublime, and being an extra in someone else's story.
Some wise man said a picture is worth a thousand words but I beg to differ. The owl humbly submits that a snapshot is an instance of the lived experience crystallized. The stories it tells, the relationships - the subjects with one another, the subject and the context, the photographer and the subject, the act of framing something and leaving something out - all these and a lot more lie outside the realm of words and a picture expresses far more than a thousand words if you will only open yourself to its possibilities.
Here are some observations that the owl made in local trains out of Howrah, passenger trains bound to mofussil destinations and other aimless journeys.
Mapping the Rails
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Pages/Mapping-the-Rails
Until next time,
The Observant Owltrainrailjourneyconvoytrackschainnarrow gaugebroad gaugedaily lifeIndian railwayspeopleridelogisticsconnectivitystations
Madan Mohan's Maya
Since Diwali this owl has been flying around in circles, never quite settling but keeping close to a Gaudiya Math. This one harks back to the time of the glorious revival of Gaudiya Vaishnavism at the turn of the last century.
It is a tradition at the Math to gather on Annakut and sing the glory of their beloved Madan Mohanji in Kirtans, some of which were composed by Chaitanya Mahaprabhu himself and have been in the collective memory of the devotees for five centuries now.
After the kirtans, devotees perform 108 parikramas or pradakshinas (circumambulation) of the inner sanctum. After the parikrama, all of them sit down for prasad, which is a simple meal comprising of vegetables and khichdi cooked from the first rice of the new harvest.
It is believed that by offering the first fruit of a harvest to the Lord, hunger, sickness, and disease can be warded off. The simple faith of the devotees is reflected in the simplicity of the rituals. Here are a few glimpses.
Madan Mohan's Maya
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Galleries/Madan-Mohans-Maya/
Until next time,
The Observant OwlAnnakutKolkataCalcuttaBengalMadan MohanjiFresh HarvestVaishnavaVaishnavismGaudiya
On wanderlust and bathing elephants
Diwali is just round the corner and this owl can already smell nippy early mornings in Bihar. Mist lingers on the Gandak and can only be dissipated with copious cups of very sweet cha. The conversation is punctuated by neighing of excited horses being tethered in their temporary stables and the tinkling of bells from bulls being led away.
Exactly a fortnight from Diwali, elephants from far and wide will also reach Sonepur and will be given a ceremonial bath at the conflunece of rivers Gandak and Ganga. Thus will begin the annual Cattle Fair at Sonepur. Here are a few glimpses from years past:
Horse Trading
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/Horse-Trading-Horses
The owl hopes this tickled your appetite for wanderlust and you'll set out for the road less trodden.
Until next time
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comvishnu avatarharihar nathgaja grahsonepursonepur cattle fairpatnabihardiwalikarthik poornimakartik poonamgangagandakanimal tradingelephantdogsdonkeysponiespersian horsesgoatsbullsbuffaloesexotic birds
A Belated Reunion
Ladies and gentlemen, meet Kanaklata and her great grandchildren. Unbelievable as it may be, she found her family - rather her 60-something nephew, Samar Adhikari, found her - after her story was published in the national dailies. While Samar recognized his mother's sister and sought her out just as she was getting ready to climb the tram that was to take her from Esplanade through the city, she only stared and asked 'who are you, dear?' Samay introduced himself and thus a family was reunited after a hiatus of 70 years.
While all Kanaklata's friends weren't as fortunate as her, their two days in the owl city were also charged with gaiety and joy. Their euphoria and elation spills out from these frames that the owl has worked overtime to put together. The owl hopes the effort will find favor with you.
Visitors from the Basil Grove
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Photo-Essay/Galleries/Visitors-from-the-Basil-Grove/i-sR7BmXt
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comDeviDurgaPujaPujoBengalCalcuttaKolkataWidowVrindavanBrindavanaMathuraKanaklataFamilyBelatedReunion
With a song on the lips..
What does a homeland mean to someone who is doubly abandoned? This is the question the owl sought to answer the past weekend as he joined good samaritans from Sulabh International as they took a group of Widows from Vrindavan on a tour of the Owl City.
The city is gearing up for grand Durga Puja festivities and the owl can feel the anticipation almost as a tingling sensation on the tips of his feathers. But no one is as excited as Kanaklatha; it has been decades since she smelt Bengali air and heard the beats of dhaak. She was in the Owl City with her friends - who like her, were unceremoniously abandoned in the streets of Vrindavan after they were widowed.
Widows in Vrindavan live in the streets, or in an ashram, and they etch out a meager existence by begging and doing menial work. Recently they were informed that they weren’t welcome in the city which has now become their home, by Dreamgirl-turned-MP Hema Malini. Where will Kanaklatha, today in her eighties, go if she is deprived of the little support system that Vrindavan offers? That is a question Ms. Malini doesn’t deem worthy of answering.
The good folks at Sulabh International decided to something special for these ladies. A lot of them hail from Bengal and they were brought to the Owl City ahead of Durga Puja. After the important stuff like meeting the Governor, and other important people, the ladies got to take a ferry ride to Dakshineswar Temple. They even visited Kumartuli, went to Puja pandals as finishing touches were being put on them, and topped it with a tram ride through the city.
All the while they chanted and sang “Radhe Radhe” with a smile that could encompass all creation. The owl could not begin to capture their spontaneous innocent energy, but here is a humble offering. The owl hopes you will appreciate it and learn to count your blessings just as he did.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comDeviDurgaPujaPujoBengalCalcuttaKolkataWidowVrindavanBrindavanaMathura
On namesakes
It is that time of the year again when the Owl City is all agog with the sound of dhaakis playing drums. Bengalis celebrate the annual homecoming of the Mother, who is also considered the daughter of the household. She is welcomed with much fanfare and with equal ritual and rivalry her image is immersed in the river. And then, no one bothers with her; she lays there abandoned on the banks and slowly disintegrates.
This frame from Kumartuli is evocative because it is a flesh-and-blood illustration; on the right, in foreground is Durga, now sad and decrepit. On the left, in the background are fresh idols of Durga waiting to be brought to life, only to be forgotten in the end.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.com
On the Ephemeral Bubble called Happiness
There is a young man this owl can listen to for hours; the world knows him for the way his fingers worked their magic and turned a guitar fretboard into a Purple Haze He once said “And so castles made of sand slips into the sea, eventually..” and no words this owl knows, better describe the transience of happiness. Below you will find framed some such fleeting moments:
Tinted Whims
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Singles/Pages/Tinted-Whims
This is also the time of the year when people invite their beloved Ganapati Bappa to come and live in their house for a few days. Here are some stills from the Ganesh Visarjan in Hyderabad.
Of Immersions and Processions
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/Of-Immersions-and-Processions
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comColorLandscapesNaturePanoramaVistaBeautyEphemeralCapriciousFleetingPeoplePortraitProcessionImmersionVisarjanGanpatiGaneshGaneshaGanesa VinayakVinayakaChaturthiAnant ChaturdashiNizamHyderabadAndhra Pradesh
On Living, Loving, and Walking
A wise man this owl admires once wove together a string of verse that perhaps best describes his obsession with his city.
“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
- Pablo Neruda
Walking around, getting lost in these streets is not about getting lost but about finding life as it unfolds while you are, at the very best, an extra eating jhal muri in the background, or the yellow blur of a taxi passing by. Here are some moments this owl was fortunate enough to witness and capture - a loving ode from a hopeless lover:
Visual Diary of a Jay Walker
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Kolkata-Calcutta-/Pages/Visual-Diary-of-a-Jay-Walker
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comCalcuttaKolkataWest BengalStreetWalkingBeautyEphemeralCapriciousFleetingPeople
The Call
This past month has been a month of fasting, prayer, charity and
introspection for Muslims the world over. The owl would like to offer
many mubaarakbaat on the occasion of EId-ul-Fitr along with this still
of the devout praying on a sultry afternoon in the streets on Kolkata.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comCalcuttaKolkataWest BengalStreetEidEidulFitrMuslimIslamCallPrayerNamaz
Aravan's Wives
Do you want to listen to a long yarn? This tale is lost in the mists of time and rhetoric to the point where it is all a matter of belief now. Tamil traditions of Mahabharata talk about a rite ‘Kalappali’ or Sacrifice to the Battlefield before the epic battle began. Pandavas convinced Aravan, son of Arjuna and the Naga Princess Ulupi, to sacrifice himself to Goddess Kali. Aravan’s dying wish(es) is granted in honor of his self-sacrifice.
In some folk traditions, one of the boons was that Aravan would be married. Since no woman come forward to marry Aravan fearing imminent widowhood, Krishna took the form of Mohini and married him. The day after the marriage Aravan was sacrificed and Mohini wept and mourned his death. Krishna assumed his masculine for after that.
In the village of Koovagam, Aravan is worshipped as Kuttantavar in a temple dedicated to him. In the Chaitra month of the Tamil calender, Aravan’s marriage and sacrifice are commemorated in an 18 day festival. Aravanis (transgendered people who follow the cult of Aravan) flock to the village from far and wide. On the penultimate day of the festival, bedecked in bridal finery, they are married to Aravan by the temple priests who tie thalis (sacred thread symbolizing marriage) around their necks. This is followed by wild revelry that lasts all night. In the morning after the ritual re-enactment of Aravan’s sacrifice, the Aravanis mourn his death by breaking their thalis and bangles. They shed all their finery and put on widow’s whites. They stay in mourning thus for a month.
Below are some glimpses of this poignant festival where grief follows gaiety and both are shared by a community that is both ridiculed and feared by the masses. In a way the festival is a microcosm of the lives they lead on the fringes of our conscious. They happily do things no one else will do and in the end they are left bereaved with no one to fall back on but their own community.
Covenant of Boon and Bereavement
http://www.anobservantowl.in/Portfolio/Festivals/Pages/Covenant-of-Boon-and-Bereaveme
The owl hopes these frames made you pause and think.
Until next time,
The Observant Owl.
P.S. if you want to talk to this owl you can write and email to talk2owl@gmail.comKoovagamAravanIravanKuttantavarKoothandavarAravaniTamil NaduTransgender peopleTransvestitesMarriageWeddingWidowSacrificeVillupuram
Setting the Course
The Owl has been flying in a wide circle. Here is a glimpse of where he's been recently. Any guesses? This is just to whet your appetite. Stay tuned for more.