I  recently had the opportunity to visit a few villages in Gujarat. Thanks to my job which takes me to such unique places. They are away from all the noise and clutter that cities hold. They have a certain warmth which cities don’t. Warmth and selflessness which are rare attributes in the cities.

Among many others, Anjar was one of the places we visited during this field trip. Anjar is a small tehsil in the state of Gujarat which experienced a high magnitude earthquake in the year 2001. According to the internet,  it is one of the oldest towns in the state. The quake ruined many houses.

After finishing our work in one of the villages in Anjar, we decided to go to the core of that village, where most of the settlements were. We saw many houses which stood there like nothing had happened. These houses were built before the earthquake. We could see huge cracks in the walls, though, which were an evidence to that catastrophic event. Much of them have been abandoned and some have also been repaired.

Some of the houses had really pretty doors. This one is my favorite.

Cracks revealing history.

Not sure what’s happening here!

Non-chalant

Another cool door

And another.

If doors were twins

The house of the villager who showed us the village

Knock knock?

Silence.

~Musings of a Curious Soul~

There is an intricate beauty in silence. Not the absence of sound, but the tuning in to the easily missed out sounds.

The rustle of leaves in a forest

The lapping of waves on the beach

The distant cry of a Kite in flight.

The rattle-like sound of grass blades whispering to the wind.

The wind.

The horn of a train passing by

The bell of the ice-cream seller

The tuning in of a radio

The constant hum of a tube light
The tick tock of a wall clock

All these things are so easily missed out in the noise of our daily chores

And up until the day they disappear, we rarely notice them.

Funny, isn’t it?

~anugraha

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Within the nooks and crannies of Dehradun

Two bicycles and the red dukaan

 

The colourful architecture at Mussoorie

 

Mussoorie in monochrome

 

Scrumptious Indian street food: Kachori and wada

 

As the sun sets

Bandarpunch peak as seen from Mussoorie hill station.

Mussoorie, Uttarakhand.

 

There’s a certain charm to the Himalayan streams. The whitish-grey limestones add to the perfection. Some rocks that are broken and shoved downstream by the force have perfectly fallen in place, while others are still on a journey with the river. Some are resilient and try not to give up as the cold river slithers past them. This bond between the rivers and rocks is what makes it so pleasing to the eyes.

A view of the Sahastradhara in Uttarakhand state of India. The stream is a tributary of the river Song and is a famous tourist spot in Dehradun. The stream originates from a natural spring which is known to be rich in sulphur.

Get up, stand up

~Musings of a Curious Soul~

You stand shivering in some dirty dormitory with no clue of how you got there. A while ago, you were at your house and now you are in this dark place along with your family and friends. You have no memory of how you got there or who your captors are.

One by one everyone is dragged away, to never come back. And then all too suddenly it’s your turn to face the unknown. As you are being pulled by your bruised hands, you slowly see the huge, stinky pile of dead people. Some bodies are still moving, crying out in pain as they breathe their last. A few decayed bodies are being disposed of by the ones who brought you to this wretched place.

But you notice that all the dead bodies have something weirdly common. None of them have their noses. Looking at the ghastly sight, you now…

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The Blue hour

It was dawn. It was all dark.

The sun; still hiding.

The birds twittered in melodious notes. The dawn chorus echoed repeatedly. A cheerful noise filled the place.

I inhaled a bit of fresh air. I waited there.

As the sun leisurely rose behind the hills; it silhouetted them against it’s bright light.

It kissed the rocks with it’s radiant rays and made the water glisten.

The trees swayed in it’s golden light.

Everything looked happy and I watched it in delight.

I lingered around for a moment. The ambience felt so invigorating.

It was the beginning of a new morning.

Helpful little plants

This is a type of moss named anthoceros. 

I clicked this photo in Tamhini ghat, a very popular mountain pass and picnic spot in Pune district. It is loved for its scenic waterfalls and lush greenery during the monsoon. The mountains are often covered in thick fog and unveil their green carpeted slopes not unless a strong wind clears the view and the best time to visit Tamhini is monsoon, without doubt.

I loved this photo. Instead of simply posting it on the blog, I wanted to present it with a short description. So I gathered some information and did a little research on Bryophytes.

While surfing the internet I came accross an interesting fact

Did you know, that moss prevents soil erosion?

Well, yes! It does.

I was pretty fascinated by this newly discovered fact.

Such delicate life forms doing their part in helping the environment.

How cool is that!

 

And here it is. The green kingdom of Tamhini ghat.

 

 

A few butterflies kept fluttering over the Lantana bushes that surrounded my house like a fence. They were cheerfully dancing under the bright yellow sun. I was shooting them (with a camera, of course) from a long time. To capture pictures of a butterfly is a tough job for me. They keep moving around, sucking nectar from every flower they fancy. How restless are they!

Without removing my finger from the trigger and pointing the lens towards it, I followed the trail of a pretty Red Pierrot with my camera. The shutter clicked and clicked and clicked. I expected pictures of the Pierrot in flight. But all were hazy pictures of leaves and walls without the butterfly. Sigh.

However, I find the dragonfly a well behaved insect, and easier to photograph. Like the butterfly, its never in a hurry. Kind of a gentleman.

This dragonfly had fancied a stalk of flower. It hovered for a while, checked if there are any better options nearby, then came back. It rested on it, giving me a chance to compose this image.

The rugged moon

As evening fell, I hurriedly ran to the top of my house. The post monsoon skies were something that I loved the most. I walked up the stairs and stepped on the terrace floor. It was very cold. While searching for a clean place to settle down a cool gust of wind lifted my hair, caressing the back of my sweaty neck. I sat down, pulling my legs close to my chest to fight the crazy cold wind.

I looked up at the sky. It showed a hazy outline of the moon in the sky-blue coloured sky. The clouds silently sailed, travelling where the winds accompanied them. They buried the moon every now and then.

Birds were heading home as it was time for the orange ball of fire to shine on the other side of our planet. The sun silently descended lower and lower, and within no time disappeared, yet sprayed it’s golden soft light in the cloud filled evening sky.

Twilight. The sky changed its colours from red to orange, from orange to pink and from pink gradually faded into a greyish hue. The sky slowly turned darker and darker and the moon turned brighter and brighter.

An eerie bat flying haphazardly was silhouetted as it passed across the moon, and in the blink of an eye; vanished into thin air.

The colour of the sky was now deep purple.

Gradually, it turned black and got crowded with millions of twinkling, tiny white dots. They looked like glitter sprinkled on a silky black fabric.

Amidst the massive cluster of stars hung the rugged moon, prepared to rule the night sky. It had a scarred surface. It did not twinkle. But the light it reflected was bright enough to reach me. It looked Beautiful.