Musings of an eccentric mind

The Old, Beneath The New

Upon Entering - First View

A gallery tour of Ugrasen ki Baoli – not really on a tourist’s itinerary. But then, not even locals are aware of its presence!

Ugrasen ki Baoli

Delhi has been loved, and loathed, by people for centuries. She has been built, razed to the ground, and rebuilt, by the same people who destroyed her.

The city has always been the favourite city of successive rulers. The proof of their love, lies in the monuments they constructed, that are spread across the city. Most of the newer buildings were constructed at the site of older structures. So the Fort of Rai Pithora, was razed to the ground, only for the Qutub Minar to be built.

Purana Qila (Old Fort) was built by Humayun, only to be destroyed by Sher Shah Suri. Sher Shah built his own capital at that site, only for Humayun to return! But even before the battles between these kings, an ancient civilization existed there – excavations of objects and pottery dating back to 1000 BC proving the antiquity of the Fort.

Besides the most obvious monuments, there are several smaller ones – those that are not on a tourist’s itinerary. They are hidden from public view. Even locals, never fully explore the city. To peel away the different layers of the city, requires more than just a few days. To understand what makes immigrants fall in love with the city, requires more than a lifetime.

In our quest to explore the ‘other’ side of Delhi, a few of us visited a baoli.

A baoli is a step-well, unique to the desert regions of western India. Ugrasen ki Baoli, is just off the main road near Connaught Place (Rajiv Chowk), at the heart of Delhi.

A short walk from the Barakhamba Metro station led us to the walls of the baoli. It looked like any other stone wall we’d seen, until we stepped inside. We collectively gasped at the sight in front of us – a long flight of steps leading to the bottom of the well.

There were scores of pigeons happily going about their daily lives, unaware of their historical home; a few groups of people, wanting to ‘hang out’ together; and one youth, working on his laptop, seeking refuge from the harsh heat!

We descended the stairs, to be welcomed by a very strong odour and screeching sounds. We looked up from the bottom of the well, to the ceiling of the tower – bats. We climbed up the stairs faster than we had descended!

The old, the new, and the pigeons – The three elements that define Delhi – A gallery tour

Mosque on Western end

Just Before Closing Time

Identification

Information

Outer Walls

Banyan Tree Roots

Banyan Tree within the complex

Tree just outside

Providing shade

Upon Entering – First View

Pigeons in flight

Bat cave!

Arched Corridors on the sides

Mid-way – Going Up

Mid-way – Looking Down

Related Links:
My friend who introduced the baoli to me, posted a few photographs on one of his posts too. Do check them out here.

Tags baoli, connaught place, Delhi, gallery, India, medieval, monument, old, photographs, travel

Stories

The Guide

It was a hazy February morning. And we found ourselves free for the day. One of us had a car, and the rest of us made ourselves comfortable in it. We decided to visit the zoo. When we reached, our eyes fell on a huge stone wall. We forgot about the zoo, and decided to explore this imposing structure.

We didn’t know exactly where we were, but the main entrance was nowhere in sight. We located an opening in the fence, running along the perimeter of the complex. A narrow dusty path lay between the thick stone walls, and the fence along the main road. There was perhaps room only for two or three people to walk. We followed the path.

A group of college students were walking ahead of us. And it was only after a while, that we realised that a stray dog had been following us since the time we had entered. We paused, and the dog passed us by.

The path split into two, one of which, descended towards a lake. We resumed our walk along the narrow path next to the stone walls. The path was on higher ground, and we could see the lake beyond the trees.

We climbed down to catch a glimpse of birds on the lake. When we returned to the path, we found the dog waiting for us. It wanted to catch our attention. And it succeeded.

Our focus shifted from the monument, to the dog. We paused, and the dog paused as well.

It walked up a stone step, and looked into one of the openings in the wall. It knew we were watching its movements. So this time, we were waiting for it. It stood still, while one of us took a photograph. Once the photo-session was over, it walked ahead.

Meanwhile, the group of students walking ahead of us had turned back. We realised why, when we hit a dead end. There was a stone wall ahead of us, the lake was gone, and there was a thick cluster of trees in its place. Our friend, the dog, casually walked into this ‘forest’. On an impulse, we decided to follow it.

We climbed down the cliff, and reached the bottom. It was marshy, but our friend guided us along a thin strip of solid ground. At the end of the ascent, we found ourselves at the magnificent, towering entrance of the Old Fort!

After our initial amazement, we turned around.

Our guide was long gone…

Photo By Anand – used without permission (but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind :))

Tags Delhi, India, old fort, purana qila, travel

Hobbies Musings

The Bouquet

By The Window

She had been uprooted from her home, decorated to highlight her appealing petals, and given away to indifferent people. In her new ‘home’, she sat quietly in a corner, waiting to be noticed.

Her new family did not appreciate her. They had seen many more like her, and like all the others, she would be abandoned. The garbage collector would pick her up, and she would spend the rest of her short life along with plastics and other alien creatures.

She looked absolutely beautiful. And at the same time, she looked sad. We noticed her head looking towards the ground. She was tired, and disappointed. We decided to adopt her.

We peeled away the pins and wires that surrounded her, and even as I offered her water, some of her delicate petals gave way.

Free from the shackles, and getting a little care, she felt lighter. Was there a hint of a smile? She still missed her home. Nothing could replace that, but now, she hoped she could spend the rest of her days in peace.

By The Window

Floating

Contemplating

Reaching Out

Dying To Make You Smile

Tags bouquet, chrysanthemum, flowers, gallery, life, lily, nature, philosophy, photographs, plants

Hobbies

Hanging Around!

Seashells strung on a string

I’ve mentioned a few times, my love for ‘junk’. Here’s something that we hang around with everyday 🙂 The shells here, have been collected, and passed down, over three generations! Hope you enjoy 🙂

Close together

Seashells strung on a string

Seashells in colour

Tags crafts, gallery, photographs, sea shells, seashell, wall hanging

Hobbies

Mango Leaves

For Protection

Everyone loves mangoes – have it fresh, in pickles, chutneys, salads, shakes, juices, puddings… Even designers love them. The mango motif lends itself to endless adaptations, and can be embellished on almost everything. But the leaves of this tree often do not get the same sort of limelight.

Mango leaves are considered sacred, and are hung at the doorstep of houses on auspicious occasions. Some of the reasons, that I have heard, are warding off negative energy, keeping insects away, and for prosperity.

This past week, India celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi. Our humble mango leaves made their appearance for the pooja. Here’s my attempt to photograph them. It was my first attempt at shooting in the full manual mode, and what better subject to start with 🙂

For Protection

For Prosperity

For Warding Off Negative Energy

Tags customs, festival, gallery, ganesh chaturthi, India, mango leaves, photographs, tradition

Hobbies Stories

Letter To Unniyarcha

Close Up

I suppose,
Somewhere in Heaven,

18 September 2012

Dear Unniyarcha,

I hope you don’t mind the informal salutation. Even though we have never met, somehow, I feel that you would not mind being addressed in this manner. I have heard about you, though I must admit, my knowledge is rather limited.

Last week, I began taking part in the weekly writing challenge. For this week, I decided to write a letter to you. Let me introduce myself. I live in the 21^st century. My home is several miles away from where you lived, but both our homes are part of the same country. We no longer have kings and queens, but we still have wars. The conflicts in our society are very similar to the conflicts during your lifetime.

You are a source of great inspiration to me, and over the past several months, I have been busy trying to create something – based on you. I am writing to you, because I wish to share my vision with you.

In your time, there were sculptors and painters who created such wonderful works of art, puppeteers who breathed life into inanimate objects, magicians who created wonderful illusions, actors, dancers and musicians who recreated dramas on stage. In our time, we still have these art forms, but some people have invented new media, and many of these wonderful arts can be performed within something called a ‘computer’.

I am still a student, and trying to learn new things. In my school, I tried to implement what I learnt, to create a character. If you were to be reborn, in our times, this is what I believe you might be. A seemingly ordinary girl – but one who has an extensive knowledge of Kalaripayattu. Simple, confident, friendly, strong and respected.

I had a rather tough time, and at times I felt rather unpleasant, wondering if I could really conquer the challenge I had set for myself. I took up sole responsibility, and in hindsight, I think it was not a very wise thing to do. Nevertheless, I accomplished a part of what I set out to do. The character has her flaws, and will probably always remain a work-in-progress – aren’t all humans! But I am satisfied with what I managed.

I hope someday she gets to meet you, and gets an opportunity to learn something from you. I thank you for patiently reading this letter. I hope it wasn’t much of an inconvenience. I am enclosing some photographs of the girl. I hope you like them.

yours truly,

Kasturika

Close Up

Pose From Side

Striking A Pose

Practising A Jump

Run Up

Smoothing the rough edges

The Basic ‘Sculpture’

* * *

Unniyarcha is a popular legendary warrior, believed to have lived in the 16^th century. She was an expert at wielding the Urumi.

Urumi is a long sword made of flexible steel, sharp enough to cut into flesh, but flexible enough to be rolled into a tight coil. It is dangerous to the opponents and wielders alike, and requires great agility and skill to master.

Kalaripayattu is one of the oldest fighting systems in existence. It is believed that the Buddhist monk Bodhidharma travelled from the southern part of India and taught martial arts to the monks at Shaolin Temple. The origin of Shaolin Kung Fu is attributed to the ancient Indian martial art systems.

Source : Wikipedia

Tags 3d, ambient occlusion, character, contours, digital art, DPchallenge, India, kalaripayattu, letter, martial arts, mesh, project, Unniyarcha, urumi

Musings

In Search Of A Voice

At the beginning of the week, I thought I would try my hand at this week’s writing challenge… I’ve been wanting to write about my favourite author for such a long time. But it’s been a rather busy week… Perhaps I’ll write about that some other time. For now, I present to you… Mr Bond, Ruskin Bond.

I read short stories by Ruskin Bond as a child. A collection of such stories, was the very first book that I asked my parents to buy for me.

Even when I was well into my adolescence, and adulthood, I continued to read, and re-read his stories. This of course makes me wonder if I’ve really grown up… But that is a different matter.

Ruskin Bond’s stories, at least the ones I have read, have often been about personal experiences. My favourite ones are those where the author writes as the main protagonist, and narrates events in first person. Filled with nostalgia, the stories portray a wide range of emotions. The author weaves such beautiful stories around everyday events.

‘The Night Train At Deoli and other stories’ is my all time favourite – which is one of the books that I exchanged with my friend. I’ve always wondered if I inadvertently write in a similar manner. But even though Ruskin Bond’s stories have left a huge impact on me, I will not dare say that I write in a similar style – no one can.

Most of what I have written, is based on my experiences. Strictly speaking, I do not write fiction, and I know that I do not write factual accounts of everything. In fact, this blog was never intended for writing! I had a few images that I wanted to post on-line – so that I could share them with people more easily. I’m not an artist or a photographer. I’m not a dedicated writer, and I have no specific topic on which I write.

As I write this post, I am left wondering what my blog is really about. Perhaps one day, I will figure out what exactly I’m trying to do. Then, perhaps the blog will be a lot more organised than it is right now.

Until then, I will continue searching for my voice.

Dear reader, if you have any thoughts regarding what it is that I write about, please help me organise this little space. What do you think this blog is all about?

Tags blog, book, DPchallenge, writing

Hobbies Stories

Teacher’s Day Out

Happy Teacher's Day, Ma'am

Today is Teachers’ Day in India – in honour of Dr S Radhakrishnan. In the small primary school that my mother volunteers, the children come from poor* families, and are often ill behaved. While most of the other teachers resort to beating the children into being quiet, she doesn’t believe in beating the kids. As a result, managing them, is a nightmare for my mother. Along with the politics of the management and back-biting from other teachers, the kids were at least partially responsible for my mother falling sick this past week.

After a prolonged absence from work, when she went back to school, the children greeted her with flowers and cards. One little present stood out. The most mischievous child had made a box out of paper. Coloured with crayons, decorated with ‘chamki‘ **, complete with a ‘ribbon’ – it was simple and charming.

When I was in school, one of my teacher’s said, “Every person I meet, is a teacher to me…”
Here’s wishing all my teachers, a happy Teachers’ Day!

Happy Teacher’s Day, Ma’am

Roses are red… The vase is blue

Flowers

Open Box

Paper Box

*poor – the term poor here refers not merely to the financial status of the students. Most of the families earn a decent income. They live in bad localities, and their behaviour is often unruly.

** chamki – sequins

Tags blog, bouquet, dr s radhakrishnan, flowers, gallery, India, paper box, photographs, teachers day in india

Musings

The Book Exchange

Books On A Shelf

After years of internet addiction, I found myself doubting my ability to read a physical book. Is it possible to go back to reading a paper book – cover to cover?

Travelling by train, after many years, was, at once, both exciting, and disheartening. We were to be confined to the train for a total of 60 hours. No access to a computer, or the internet. It was a welcome break. But that meant I’d have to find something else to do… Perhaps read a book?

I stared at the long row of bookshelves – there were perhaps close to two hundred books. Comprehensive books on all aspects of business, a twenty four-volume set on crafts, course material on computer science, old and yellowing documentation on world history, several rather heavy books purchased through mail offers, essays on English literature, general knowledge, several abridged (poorly edited) children’s illustrated classics, and an assortment of books on health, spirituality, philosophy, and even palmistry!

Sandwiched in between these books, were some books I recognised. Some purchased, some gifted, and some inherited – all with a particular memory attached. The weathered ‘As You Like It’, which I had requested my parents to buy so that I could read it during the summer vacations. The ‘Little Women’ that my aunt had gifted me for my tenth birthday, with a handwritten note inside. The unabridged ‘Pride and Prejudice’, which I had already read thrice!

For the past several years, bringing books had been, unofficially, banned. But if I brought them temporarily, it wouldn’t hurt – much. So two days before our departure, I struck a deal with a friend of mine. We were going to have a book exchange!

On the staircase of a busy metro station, to the amusement of passengers, two girls sat, chatting – catching up on each other’s lives, pondering over some serious topics, and, at times, giggling uncontrollably. As the evening wore on, we decided to call it a day and presented our books to each other.

On the way back, I stared at the paper bag – six books. I hadn’t read a book – cover to cover – for several years. The only exception being textbooks. I began doubting myself. Would I be able to read through even one book, leave alone six? I picked one up and started reading the first paragraph. I felt uneasy. I couldn’t comprehend it. I read it again. I heard the train approaching the platform, and shut the book.

At home, I lined up the books, alongside the other things, I was to pack into the suitcase. There is something about a book, which has been read by a friend, which has a worn out cover, and whose pages are yellow. After pacing up and down a few times, I picked one up. Just a few pages…

A little while later, I looked up at the clock. It was well past dinner time. Everyone had finished eating, and the packing up, for the journey, had commenced.

Time had flown by, and just like that, I had given myself up to a fictitious world. My surroundings changed, I left reality behind. The repeated calls for dinner, had fallen on deaf ears. I was blissfully unaware of the mounting anxiety around the house, as everyone was packing up their suitcases. I just read.

I do not recall ever sitting and reading, without falling asleep. I had doubted my ability to read. And now, I was devouring a book like a ravenous beast.

Before I knew it, I’d finished three-quarters of the book, and nothing, but the realisation that there were only a few hours left for our departure, could part me from the book! I packed the books in, and couldn’t wait to finish reading my newly acquired books.