Behind The Lens

MACROS ...

2020-02-17T12:56:00.001-08:00

INTO the WORLD of MACRO Photography ...

SMALL is Beautiful ...

SMALLER is Exotic ...

SMALLEST is Spiritual ...

Dew Drops ...

The Flower ...Red or Green ...

The Greens ...

Waiting For a Butterfly ..

TRAPPED...

Beautiful Life ...

Chemistry or Biology ...

JINGLERS ...

White in Black ...

Nothing O ..

Transparency ...

Crumpled ...

Everywhere it's the story of LIGHT ...

GAJA AYURVEDAM --Have you heard of SUKHA CHIKITSA for ELEPHANTS ... i clicked thee Photos from MANGALAAM KUNNU , during the SUKHA CHIKITSA PERIOD ... One Elephant among the many there was very aggressive ,the reason being MASTH ... Musth or must /ˈmʌst/ (an Urdu word, from Persian: literally drunk) is a periodic condition in bull (male) elephants characterized by highly aggressive behavior and accompanied by a large rise in reproductive hormones. Testosterone levels in an elephant in Musth can be on average 60 times greater than in the same elephant at other times (in specific individuals these testosterone levels can even reach as much as 140 times the normal) However, whether this hormonal surge is the sole cause of musth, or merely a contributing factor, is unknown. Scientific investigation of Musth is problematic because even the most placid elephants become highly violent toward humans and other elephants during musth.

2020-02-16T13:47:00.000-08:00

INCARCERATED by Homo Sapiens ..

is it the helplessness or SORROW

yet to be worn as RING

close-up of the TRUNK

Natural Aggression

None dares to go anywhere near during this period

Ebony and the Ivory

Parambikulam Wild life Sanctuary

Sathyamangalam Forest

HARIDWAAR : And How Long..

2013-01-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

How much does a man live , after all ?

Does he live a thousand days, or one only?

For a week, or for several centuries?

How long does a man spend dying?

What does it mean to say "for ever"?

Lost in this preoccupation,
I set myself to clear things up.

I sought out knowledgeable priests,
I waited for them after their rituals,
I watched them when they went there ways
to visit God and Devil.

They wearied of my Questions.
They on their part knew very little.
They were no more than administrators.

- PABLO NERUDA..

HARIDWAAR.. these pictures-there were hundreds of them, with names and without- all came back. They rose fresh and new out this night of love, and i knew again, what in my wretchedness i had forgotten, that they were my life's possession and all its worth.. Indestructible and abiding as the stars, these experiences, though forgotten, could never be erased.. Their series was the story of my life, their starry light the undying value of my being.. My life had become weariness.. It had wandered in a maze of unhappiness that led to renunciation and nothingness; it was bitter with the salt of all human things; yet it had laid up riches, riches to be proud of.. It had been for all its wretchedness a princely life.. Let the little way to death be as it might, lost to pitifulness, the kernel of this life of mine was noble.. It had purpose and character and turned not on trifles, but on the stars..steppenwolf..hesse..

2012-11-28T13:54:00.000-08:00

SYMBIOTIC LIVING..

2011-12-10T17:57:00.000-08:00

SYMBIOTIC LIVING...

2011-12-10T14:27:00.000-08:00

SYMBIOSIS.... living always in proximity with some shrine tuned me to the temple bells and the metallic loud-speaker Bhajans.. sleepless early mornings before the arrival of the care taker of the temple was peace ; simply because only nature's music could be heard.. all these moorings made a volte-face when destiny pulled me for the second time to a place where snakes twine around like twigs , where dogs like doberman are way farers and birds are none other than Peacocks .. the chirping musical notes were displaced by "the devil's voice of the peacocks having angelic feathers and the walk of a thief ".. thus, remembrances of decades of reverberating chimes from the temple bells perished and coalesced in the infernal voice of he big birds in the wee hours of the day ..

living always in proximity with some shrine tuned me to the temple bells and the metallic loud-speaker Bhajans..
sleepless early mornings before the arrival of the care taker of the temple was peace ; simply because only nature's music could be heard..
all these moorings made a volte-face when destiny pulled me for the second time to a place where snakes twine around like twigs , where dogs like doberman are way farers and birds are none other than Peacocks ..
the chirping musical notes were displaced by "the devil's voice of the peacocks having angelic feathers and the walk of a thief "..
thus, remembrances of decades of reverberating chimes from the temple bells perished and coalesced in the infernal voice of he big birds in the wee hours of the day ..

2011-12-06T09:02:00.001-08:00

Through..

.. colorless entities are they.. Like the black holes they consume all beings.. the beauty of the blacks and whites always gives us hope.. but , is it not like Pandora"s ...

2011-12-04T14:38:00.001-08:00

Somewhere in the Western Ghats..

..and from somewhere in the Western Ghats..

If it concerned only you , one might say "What of it ?".. Bu this sadness, this despair , which comes from your mother ,who got it from her mother, who inherited it from your great -grand mother , this mountain of sorrow which has been building up from one generation to the next, since the beginning of time....."" - Frederick Leboyer

2011-11-26T20:35:00.001-08:00

an evening in Kovalam may refresh or..

dawn and dusk : both possess one character in common..

there it is not always the sea of "blues"..

Sweet corns are rarely sweet..

old sea and new men..

but, "TheSun Also Rises"..

2011-11-26T05:42:00.001-08:00

Reflections..

2011-11-18T18:04:00.001-08:00


Even in placid waters , reflections revealed to me that there are White, Dark spots engraved into my psyche.. Dawn and Dusk always creeped into me as harbingers of the inevitables..

A reflction upon simple living in natural surroundings..inspired by Henry David Thoreau's " Walden " .. this is Ahalia Campus in Palakkad , Kerala , India.

2011-11-16T04:49:00.001-08:00

A few years back this place was a barren land..

Now a haven for migratory birds .

Festivities adorn the mood ..

Though life is fast here,,,

this place is serene..

Untrodden are many places,,,

Palms are a culture here..

Herbs are a habit here..

Pedalling is not a luxury ..

Sun also rises..

Ahalia Hertage Village Painter's Camp..

2011-11-09T17:40:00.000-08:00

Parayi Petta Pathiru kulam By Artist Krishna Kumar

Ayurveda By Artist Latha Devi

Chilappathikaaram By Artist Manikandan

Trade By Artist Mathai

Village Games By Dr Sandra Pradeep

Agriculture By Artist SunilVallarpaadam

Traditional teaching By Paiter Asaanthan

Painter Bahuleyan

Traditional Agriculture By Painter Bahuleyan

This was what Artist Dhara Mehrotra visualised in our Campus

Wind in Palakkad By Artist Kaajal Charangaat

Music By Artist Nandan

Monsoon By Artist Nimmi

Ahalia Heritage Village Painter's Camp..from 06-10-2011 to 12-10-2011

2011-11-05T22:23:00.000-07:00

Artist Namboodiri Inaugurated the Ahalia Heritage Village Artist's Camp on Vijaya Dasami Day -6th of Oct 2011- at 10am in the Heritage Campus..

Coincidence

2009-09-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

By a sad coincidence, I saw something in the Metro Manorama Thrissur edition when I was over at a neighbour's place this evening.

I've uploaded an article I saw in the newspaper in two parts here. Perhaps some of you may recognize a familiar face.

Well, for those of you still in the dark, take a look here.

ഗ്രൌണ്ട് സീറോ

2009-09-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

കുറെ കാലത്തിനു ശേഷം ബ്ലോഗ്ഗിങ്ങിലെക്ക് തിരിച്ചുവരവ് നടത്തുന്ന ഈ ഇടവേളയില്‍ ഞാന്‍ കുറച്ചു കാലം മുന്പ് ഞാന്‍ എടുത്ത ചില "പൊര്ട്രൈട്സ്" ഇടാന്‍ തന്നെ തീരുമാനിച്ചു. ഓണമല്ലേ? ഒരു പുതിയ തുടക്കം തന്നെ കുറിക്കാം. എല്ല്ലാവര്‍ക്കും എന്റെ ഓണാശംസകള്‍!

And for people who can't read Malayalam (abhipraya, for example :)), we'll have an

English version (though, of course, not a literal translation): I'm coming back to blogging after a long break, necessitated by lack of bandwidth and proper technology. Since this is a brand new beginning, I thought I'd start off with a few portraits. And oh, the title reads Ground Zero.

Happy Onam everybody!

This day in the year 1996, my father went back to the Kingdom of the Gods. The above portrait of him was clicked by me at our Sreemandiram Palace at Ennakkad, with the my first SLR (a Pentax P30). I remember that the film I used was Ilford from England. In those days, I used to develop and print my pictures in my own darkroom (which was the converted bedroom) at my house in Thrissur. My father had always encouraged my attempts at photography by posing for long times in inconvenient poses for me. My mother, I can fondly say, has squandered a lot of money for buying me books on photography. Whatever I have achieved in life is because, above all, the spiritual support bestowed upon me by my father, Sri. T.K. Rama Varma Koil Thampuran and Mrs. Uma Devi Thampuratty.. my Achan and my Amma.

Above: This is Kalamandalam Rama Chakiar, a living legend in Koothu and Koodiyaattam, who used to work out of the Kerala Kalamandalam. He is a disciple of Painkulam Rama Chakiar, who is widely regarded as one of the greatest exponents of his trade. He is also the brother of Dr. Chakiar, my erstwhile colleague at Vaidyaratnam, and a good friend.

Above: Arbitrary beggar-man. Snapped him while he was doing his rounds at the Swaraj Round.

Above: When I posted this on Facebook, someone mentioned that he felt as though he had to clean his glasses after seeing this picture!

Behind The Lens

MACROS ...

INTO the WORLD of MACRO Photography ...

SMALL is Beautiful ...

SMALLER is Exotic ...

SMALLEST is Spiritual ...

Dew Drops ...

The Flower ...Red or Green ...

The Greens ...

Waiting For a Butterfly .. TRAPPED... Beautiful Life ... Chemistry or Biology ... JINGLERS ... White in Black ... Nothing O .. Transparency ... Crumpled ... Everywhere it's the story of LIGHT ...

Waiting For a Butterfly ..

TRAPPED...

Beautiful Life ...

Chemistry or Biology ...

Everywhere it's the story of LIGHT ...

INCARCERATED by Homo Sapiens ..

is it the helplessness or SORROW

yet to be worn as RING

close-up of the TRUNK

close-up of the TRUNK

Natural Aggression

None dares to go anywhere near during this period

Ebony and the Ivory

Parambikulam Wild life Sanctuary Sathyamangalam Forest

Parambikulam Wild life Sanctuary

Sathyamangalam Forest

HARIDWAAR : And How Long..

SYMBIOTIC LIVING..

SYMBIOTIC LIVING...

.. colorless entities are they.. Like the black holes they consume all beings.. the beauty of the blacks and whites always gives us hope.. but , is it not like Pandora"s ...

Reflections..

A reflction upon simple living in natural surroundings..inspired by Henry David Thoreau's " Walden " .. this is Ahalia Campus in Palakkad , Kerala , India.

Ahalia Hertage Village Painter's Camp..

Ahalia Heritage Village Painter's Camp..from 06-10-2011 to 12-10-2011

Coincidence

ഗ്രൌണ്ട് സീറോ

Waiting For a Butterfly ..

TRAPPED...

Beautiful Life ...

Chemistry or Biology ...

JINGLERS ...

White in Black ...

Nothing O ..

Transparency ...

Crumpled ...

Everywhere it's the story of LIGHT ...

Parambikulam Wild life Sanctuary

Sathyamangalam Forest