stranded ships : juhu beach

idiosyncrasies / bioscope

what is one to make of this one- a mosque at the corner of linking road sells thai massages (original - like in bangkok) on its facade; or the next image which is a man in a dhoti and kurta in the middle of the street at juhu with a placard that says- 'apne dharm par chalo- sabse prem karo' on one side and its english translation- 'everybody follow your religion- love everyone' on the other side. and he smiles as the drivers of the cars wave at him.

and some images of the bioscope- under construction.

two videos

the roof at vasai and the new drive back home, now that the thakur flyovers are complete

photo post -random city shots

flavors of china at the oberoi mall- high ceiling mirror doubling the room, a black ceiling ad red drapes. expensive food. not very good. 

bandra flyover

devil on a bike

my dad is an atm (???)

borivili station signage - which is hindi and which is marathi? 

the namesake

happy independence day from maushi

earlier on friday morning as shweta and sonal decide to do the salsa on a bridge at charoti naka they are accosted by maushi who reprimands them for not standing straight on independence day. she was stone drunk.

and there is a video...

lokhandwala market

crumbling residential buildings from the 1980s whose ground stories are taken up by boutiques and shops selling all colours and textures of material; an entire universe of leather, chiffon, velvet, black roses, floral curlicues, fur lined pockets, rexene, red glinting madness. small time tv actors and other tinsel town residue choosing the strangest clothes on earth modeled by mannequins from another planet fashion. who designs these and makes them? the fashion victims hold handbags daintily as the get off the chauffer driven marutis waiting outside with a cell phone on one ear. there is always a friend to help choose- slightly more dowdily dressed. and all the salespeople are men. ‘ madam bahut accha dikhega’ latest hain’ as we also bought we watched. the best shopping place in the city where you don’t need to buy anything.

day trip to the vasai virar sub region: image post no 5: the road back home

back roads through fields and marshes, sopara town tacky rcc until across the hill the filed of tin roofed labur housing and on the highway celebrations for the pournima in the back of the truck.

and i thought i'd be a hedonist

	What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03) created with QuizFarm.com
	You scored as Existentialism Your life is guided by the concept of Existentialism: You choose the meaning and purpose of your life. “Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.” “It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.” --Jean-Paul Sartre “It is man's natural sickness to believe that he possesses the Truth.” --Blaise Pascal Existentialism 90% Utilitarianism 80% Hedonism 75% Justice (Fairness) 65% Strong Egoism 50% Kantianism 30% Apathy 20% Nihilism 5% Divine Command 0%

image post: the first day of college; morning car / visitors from way out west

love is a sweet poison (don't touch me)

rickshaw to anupam

the reasons i have odd dreams at the end of the month: madame butterfly . invisible cities . city shots (interior and exterior) people

how can i be expected to sleep well after being assaulted by the sawdust in the air from mustaq’s enthusiastic carpentry on the terrace (it gives me a severe allergy); and phone calls in the middle of the night to trace the whereabouts of our very own artist=engineer. in between bouts of trying all the way from 2 o’clock to 5.30 i had to have two ridiculously cinematic dreams- one that definitely bar-coded me as film snob and the other as a hollywood action fan. to enter a gallery for a derek jarman art exhibition and be confronted with huge painting –projections of paul klee like drawings of golden haired boys. these are annotated with the poems of tarkovsky’s father. and then running like hell from a strange shadow who is abut to kill me up a steep hill of dust and then sliding down on the other side into a village. running like hell. and as i run the word gets around ‘supandi is coming’ and panic films the air. as i run looking for shelter from the shadow behind me doors start shutting on the street. ‘the supandi is coming!’. a clearing at the end of the street where i hide in the bushes and watch supandi come in – who turn out to be dark me in grass skirts doing a hindi film version of a tribal dance.

as incongruous a phenomenon must be watching a russian woman and an italian man play a japanese woman and an american man, singing in italian with english subtitles with an orchestra that’s called the ‘symphony orchestra of india’ and is made up largely of musicians from kazakhistan. but the music was beautiful. the tragic heroine and her maid had voices that could make you cry (in spite of the danger of creating an embarrassing ‘pretty woman’ scene); and for all its feminized asia being ravaged by the ugly american- was pretty interesting as a study in orientalism.

or maybe all this oddness has to do with the beautiful cities built as riffs on calvino texts by the first year. cities where meanings disappear as soon as you let go, or signifiers tease you into imagining patterns, or memories are found and made, or lie like unattainable utopias.

palak

kruti

anuj

pratyusha

jeenal

reema

sonal

or maybe its the streets of this city.

highway

i-flex goregaon

kharghar

juhu

borivili

kandivili

powai
--

or its rooms.

avon

mandapeshwar caves

red box

santacruz community hall


dharavi workshop

dharavi house
---

or people?

dad

aaji, usha maushi, mom

ranjit sonal

muk

prachi

deepali benita rohit paul

rupali

chetan - reluctant architect back from australia for his first novel.

paro surabhi

me