i thought, “for a change, why not let the camera capture what it wants, and more so what it feels as it rests snugly in my hand.” After a few long exposure pics, this one caught my eye. I was startled to see that my camera thought the way i did. While it was cold outside, it felt safe and warm in my hand, just the way i felt when i was with my mom.

a mother carrying her baby so snugly in her womb

And so i decided to name this pic Maiamma – Mummy, Aai and Amma.

anand.

If it hadn’t been for the crowd, he wouldn’t have known of his existence.

And so he says..

“The pacing feet and faces unknown, amidst the crowd I stand alone..

I dare the walk, I sing my song, with faith in my heart, I choose to Unbelong..”

A short film made by me for the BBC MyWorld Film Competition 2010. Made over 2 weekends, it was shot entirely in Mumbai using my humble yet efficient Sony digital camera.

It’s my first attempt at film-making and i had great fun doing it. A big THANK YOU !!! to Dhairya, Mihir and Dev mama for all the help and suggestions, the film wouldn’t have been this beautiful without you guys. And as for you, thanks for dropping by, i’d love know what you feel about the film, do you choose to ?   …Unbelong.

anand.

emotions by the inanimate

unaware of my presence, the two were in their own world, as they gazed at the light coming from the window.. the seemingly inanimate shampoo bottles magically displayed an emotion which many animated humans fail to display, love and care…

this is what they reminded me of..

one of the best on-screen hugs ever..

anand.

An absolute rekindler of the undying human spirit, to not just fight for survival and Win it but inspire others to Win the battle too. And that’s exactly what this film does to you. As You come out of the theatre, there is a renewed strength in your step and a conviction in your walk. It inspires you to fight for your dreams, even if the dream is just “a happy home”.

Sachin Khedekar, who plays the protagonist – a simple middle-class clerk Dinkar Bhosle, is brilliant. His marathi oratory skills leave you speechless. All that you hear after that is a sea of claps. The monologue where Sachin Khedekar talks about the apathy of marathi manoos, amongst sculptures of great Marathi people like Lokmanya Tilak and Babasaheb Ambedkar, is very creatively executed and brilliantly scripted. The credit for such uplifting and stirring dialogues goes to Mahesh Manjrekar and Abhijeet Deshpande.

Mahesh Manjrekar as the maratha king, is extremely powerful in evoking a sense of awe in you for the Chatrapati. His eyes have it all, a fact that is evident in the posters aswell. Makarand Anaspure’s onliners in shudh marathi are quite hilarious too, but they take a few seconds more to understand, especially if your mother tongue is not marathi.

With the national elections in India, the timing of this film couldn’t have been better. And the film’s dig at various social issues including sensitive ones like non-marathi people issue etc. is very commendable. It shows the sheer power of a brilliant script.

The film is a must watch, even if you are not a marathi manoos. For a simple reason that it evokes the basic emotion common to all mankind, and i.e. self-esteem. It gives you a terrific boost towards chasing your dreams and fighting all obstacles to win what’s rightfully yours.

It’s feels great to see marathi cinema churning up such gems.

This is the 4th marathi film that i’ve loved; the previous 3 being Shwaas, Tingya and Valu.

anand.

he fears not time, for he fears the lack of, to spare.
he fears not an identity crisis, for he fears a mistaken identity.
he fears not ignorance, for he fears partial knowledge.
he fears not failure, for he fears success undeserved.

he fears not loneliness, for he fears the crowd.
he fears not silence, for he fears the voice of his conscience.
he fears not darkness, for he fears the blinding light.
he fears not death, for he fears an aimless life.

he fears not the tears, for he fears a smile, that hides all.
he fears not pain, for he fears the emotional numb.
he fears not hatred, for he fears unfaithful love.
he fears not the enemy, for he fears a scheming friend.

he fears not the tide, for he fears the rusted anchor.
he fears not the wind, for he fears the sails, fragile.
he fears not the water, for he fears his strength to row.
he fears not the fire, for he fears that, which fuels it so.

he fears, only the One,
that’s until he knows…
he’s not different,
he is Him.

Now, he fears not.

anand.

Photography can become more interesting and inspiring when it has creativity and humor as well. Take a look at these brilliant photos, with some being very creative and inspiring… Click here to check them out.

anand.

I want to tell you a story about two photographers.

For a while now, I’ve been wanting to get more into photography, hoping eventually to buy a nice digital SLR camera. So I was quite thrilled when a photojournalist friend offered to give me some of her old film equipment to learn on. The camera, a Nikon FM2, is a fully manual model first introduced almost 30 years ago. It only uses a battery to run the light meter, and the battery on the one she gave me is burnt out — and I’ve been forbidden to replace it.

Her thinking is this: if I’m serious about learning how a camera works, I need to hone my skills and instincts so I get a feel for how to put together a good image. A more modern camera (like the later-model auto-focus Nikon she also doesn’t use anymore) wouldn’t teach me that; instead, it would teach me how to use the camera’s bells and whistles.

I have another friend who is also a photographer, and I was excited to share with her the news of my new setup. She was more or less unimpressed until I told her what kind of camera it was, then she lit up. “Oh, that’s good — you’ll learn a lot from that!” Then we got to discussing her preference for Nikon cameras, and among other things she said she liked the black-and-white mode in Nikon’s best.

“Really?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to convert to black-and-white in Photoshop, where you have far more control over the process?”

I might have been asking the Pope about his sex life — the response was rather chilly. Photoshop, to her, was a substitute for skill. Learning to make the best use of what you have in your hands, that’s photography for her, not applying the near-limitless potential of an image program.

Both of these photographers were telling me something interesting about not just photography but about… well, about life. They were telling me to stop resisting limits and embrace them as part of the process of creativity. Yes, the Nikon FM2 is a pretty limited camera — that’s what makes it a great learning tool (and, for that matter, it’s what makes it a model that’s remained popular over 3 decades of photographic advance, one that’s still found in many a pro’s toolkit). Yes, in-camera black-and-white is far more limiting than the vast possibilities unleashed by Photoshop — that’s what makes it an art. To embrace those limits and make something beautiful is to accomplish something extraordinary.

I can’t help but think of those legendary million monkeys pounding away at a million typewriters. In all that flow of randomness, eventually a string of characters will emerge that tells the story of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark and his stunning descent into madness and eventually death. But it’s the labor of one man, William Shakespeare (or another man posing as Mr. S), scratching away with his goose-feather quill by the dim light of a beeswax candle, groping for the perfect words in the near-dark, that stuns us — one man working with all the limitations of his life and times, all the limitations of the medium and of his mind. That is what elevates a play like Hamlet to the level of art.

Aside from a lack of resources — who, after all, has a million monkey laying around and that kind of time to wait? — there are good reasons to oppose unboundedness, to reject a lack of limits. Creativity doesn’t stem from limitlessness. Over and over again, creative people not only challenge limits but seek them out — artists choose a limited palette to paint an image with, musicians strip a complicated arrangement down to voice and acoustic guitar, writers cut and cut and cut again to reach a thousand-word length, and my photographer friend willingly embraces the quirks of her camera’s black-and-white mode over the power of Photoshop.

That’s the gift my photojournalist friend gave me: limits. She knew that for under $500 I could pick up a decent used digital SLR setup. But on a digital camera, it would be easy to just learn how to harness the power of the camera — to let it do my focusing, metering, white balancing, and everything else for me. I might learn good composition, but I wouldn’t learn photography.

The education of an artist or craftsperson consists mainly in learning about limits; I would argue that their creative spark comes from embracing those limits. That’s good advice for the rest of us, who spend quite a bit of time bemoaning the limitations forced on us by our circumstances without even trying to understand them. My advice — or rather, my friends’ advice — is this: understand your limits, embrace them, and use them.

It’s what they’re there for.

For the Original Article, click here.

Thought I’d never see her love brimming eyes.
and Wished every day, I was wrong.

Where is She now? How is She?
Could someone come to me and pacify.

I don’t know if She wished to see me anymore.
Or did She have a choice?

One day, I sensed her in the vibes around.
Wondered what convinced her to meet.

Had She pitied my agony?
Or was it her persuading conscience?

No. ‘Twas the godsent wind, that brought her.
Hmmm.. .That smell I waited for every time we met.

As before, She wore my favorite perfume.
Actually, it became favorite when she started wearing it.

Far She stood, dressed in angelic purity.
But I dint run to her, I gazed.

Even more beautiful since the last I saw her,
Realized where Beautiful got its meaning from.

I waited, only to be accompanied by the impatient Time.
Then, bathed in floral gentleness She walked towards me.

Reminded of the empty days without her, I stared…
It was then, that I truly appreciated Work of the Divine.

Never did She speak a word since we last met.
Nor did I speak.

She stood for a while as we stared each other
Then, beside me She sat; couldn’t ask for more.

I stayed quiet as usual, dying to hear the sweet melody,
But, her sereneness worried me.

She looked into my eyes, but still never spoke.
Mesmerized, nor did I.

Longing her warm touch I lay speechless,
Then felt her gentle hand quench my thirst.

I was compelled to ask, what brought her here?
Or more importantly How was She, Now?

But waited for her to tell all by herself,
At least to sympathize with my music starved ears.

But still, she just sat, She never spoke.
Then, after a long silence, She finally, broke.

I panicked, for I knew not the cure.
Helpless I was, What could I do?

Had lost the right to hug her.
Had lost the right to wipe her tears……

And then one trickled down and fell on my parched grave.
She left.

That scent of hers and the dried lilies still remind me of the day,
When She came…

anand.

Holi Hai !

the silver moon,
the blue expanse,
the purple twilight,
the orange dawn…

the yellow rays,
the red tulips,
the violet flowers,
the golden corn…

the green meadows,
the black stallion,
the pink flamingos,
the white swan…

miracles of life,
the most beautiful painting ever drawn.

may your life be painted with
colors of the heaven divine…
and by the way, thanks so much
for painting mine….!

Wish you all a very Happy and Colorful Holi !

anand.