Some of the best things in life

As I ponder returning to a full time job, I think of the things I might no longer have time for. Simple things like running, cooking, photography, crochet. I know I will somehow “make” time for fitness, but will I enjoy it like I now do? The takeaways we order may taste better than some of my culinary experiments, but will they give me as much satisfaction? I can afford more expensive lenses, but what use are they without the leisure to shoot?

Some of the best things in life are cheap- if we can afford the time for them.

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Link to the article that started the thought off - Your Lifestyle Has Already Been Designed
 A Drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Give credit when it is due

To most people, a flower is just a flower. Indistinguishable from the million others of its species. But to a gardener, who also happens to be a photographer, every model is unique. And I instantly recognized my Easter Lily when a friend made it her cover photograph on Facebook.

“Is that my flower?”, I asked.

“No, it was taken in Asthamudi”, she replied immediately.

Not giving credit was one thing, but claiming ownership was quite another. I dug through my albums and proved that she had commented on my original photograph.

She called to apologize, but still hasn’t credited me.

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Yes, this is the Beauty that got stolen. Now, I'm going to make sure every picture I post is watermarked- it is precisely because I am not doing it for commercial gain that I do not want to lose credit.

What you see....

I’d made some really good plum chutney the other day, and wanted to take a picture to post on a food group. I poured it into a pretty bowl, spread out a cloth that would compliment the colour, and started shooting. I took seven pictures- all were well composed, perfectly exposed and well lit, but none of them came close to capturing the colour and luminosity of the dish.

On an impulse, I decided to go against everything I have learnt, and shot against the light. The photograph was perfect.

Sometimes, the smallest shift in perspective, ends up changing everything.

“What we see depends mainly on what we look for.” ― John Lubbock

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This is the fourth year that I am going to be a part of NaBloWriM. The Plan is to elaborate (in 100 words) on a quote that touched my heart- let's see how far this takes me. If I can tie it in with the writing prompt, so much the better!

Spot the Difference

While we were waiting for the bill after lunch at our favourite restaurant, the younger one trotted off with his brother’s camera and returned a few minutes later with a satisfied smile on his face. Not to be outdone, his brother claimed the camera that is rightfully his, and disappeared on a photoshoot. After signing the charge-slip, I paused for a moment at the door, took out the camera and snapped a quick photograph.

It was only while downloading the photographs that I noticed that the same scene had captured all our imaginations. Can you guess who took which one?

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See how you fared:

I - Thing One - the (nearly) nine year old

II - Thing Two - the six and a half year old

III - Biggest One - the mother

My son, the photographer

“What does this button do?”, my eight year old asked me. I could have told him not to worry about the complicated settings on my camera, but I was in a pedantic mood and told him all I knew about apertures and shutter speeds. I was certain he wasn’t taking any of it in- how could he, when he was too young to grasp even the basic principles of optics?

Two hours later, he told me exactly how he wanted the shutter speed set. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t work, but the photograph that he took is a Classic.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

On Travelling

A friend's explanation for posting only eight photographs after a dream vacation was simple. "I like to experience a place completely", she said. "The moment I take my camera out, I lose that."
I am her polar opposite. Every picture takes me back in time. I can smell, hear and feel what I was experiencing at the moment when I took it.
Another friend is going all the way to Russia, and spending ten days exploring just two cities. She doesn't want to just do the sights- she wants to live them.
Isn't that the whole point of travelling? Experiencing!

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Last year, it was T for Test for Thyroid, Today

Plumeria Blossoms

I just don't feel inspired to churn out a post today. So am cheating by just posting two photograph of my plumeria blossoms.
Four years back, I had acquired two plants- I nursed them through several illnesses, and one rewarded me with flowers two summers back. It is the turn of the other one to grace my garden with flowers now.

The first of the lot, reaching for the Sun

Close-up, don't they almost look like they are made of porcelain? 

Trees locked in Embrace

From a distance the two trees looked like one. The smaller, light green leaves of the Neem, merging with the larger, darker coloured leaves of the banyan. The branches were intertwined- locked together in a divine embrace. They were one, it would be impossible to tear them apart. And yet, though close together, their trunks stood apart, maintaining their separate identities.

The Neem tree is a manifestation of the Mother Goddess. Her consort, Shiva, is said to reside in the trunk of the Banyan tree. Were those two trees a representation of their Union? Did they personify a successful marriage?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Simplification is but a Dream

Just when decided to simplify my life by getting rid of all but a few favourite plants, Nature chose to conspire against me. An Easter Lily that had been dormant for well over a year threw out two buds.

I was happy that the plant was going to flower; sad because it was going to do so when I was not in town.

Yesterday morning, while watering the plants, I saw a bud starting to open. By afternoon, the flower was in full bloom. It was perfect. I couldn't stop looking at it.

Guess my plants are safe for now.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

For an earlier episode of the Easter Lily saga, visit here.

One more chore

Watering plants has now become a chore. It should not be, but it is. I grudge my plants the time I need to spend watering them- when you are rushing to work, the last thing you need is one more thing that cannot be put off. There are days when I forget, and spend the rest of the day worrying about the plants getting dehydrated. I keep taking about getting rid of the plants. Maybe I should. They are not essential, and I am trying to simplify my life.
But do I really want to do without their sunny smiles?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Hands that Work

For generations, those hands have worked, and worked hard. They have created meals out of nothing and scrubbed dirty dishes. They have scraped the last bit of food for their children, and pressed their stomachs so the hunger goes away. They have begged on streets, and gathered scraps of metal to sell. They have administered first aid, and wiped the fevered brows of the children. They have helped deliver their neighbour's babies, and wiped tears when people have died.

Those hands have always worked. Today, those hands are learning a skill that will transform the life of their family forever.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

The Cross we Bear

I am really sorry. The last couple of days have been really hectic, and I was just about able to post on time on most days.

I was out of town yesterday, and only managed fifteen minutes of computer time in the morning (to catch up on office mails)- so no post.

Since I do not like to not post at all, here is a photograph I took last week (though it seems like a couple of weeks back at least), which is just a pretty picture, and doesn't need any commentary from me.

The Cross we Bear

Hope to be back with a post later today.

A Bollywood Love Story

Today I am over at Burrowers, Books & Balderdash, with a Delusional Thursday retelling of a Bollywood Love Story through mannequins.

The Simple Life

The Simple Life they call it. Where you breathe fresh air, and drink pure water. Where you grind your own spices, and drink milk from your own lifestock. Where the vegetables are fresh, and grown without fertilizers. Where you don't own a TV, nor are connected to the Internet. Where the wind whispers secrets into your ear and you talk to nature. When you think deep thoughts, and write great books.

The Simple Life is one you aspire to; hope to attain 'someday'. But what if that is the only life you ever had? The only life you can afford?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Ode of the Date Palm

From the desert they came, loaded not on camel backs but in refrigerated trucks. An exotic fruit, unseen in urban markets, till recently.

The buyer was hesitant- “I’ve never had this before”. The seller insistent- “Try one, I am sure you will like it.” She bit into the proffered piece, but remained unsure. “I’ll give it to you cheap”, the seller said.

On the long commute home, she reached for her banana, then changing her mind, took out the dates instead. The fruit was delicious, she spat the seeds out.

Two months later, there were date palms lining the train-tracks.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

For the full story, and how it relates to writing, visit Burrowers, Books & Balderdash, and while you are there, catch up with some great posts from the rest of the Burrowers.

Tamarind flowers

Analyse my DNA, and you will definitely find at least a little bit of Tamarind. It is the one seasoning element most of my favourite South Indian dishes share. The Bombay street food I am almost addicted to would be meaningless without huge dollops of tamarind sauce.

I’ve grown up with memories of drying Tamarind fruits in the courtyard, cracking the shells open, and storing the fruit in huge ceramic containers. I’m guilty of surreptitiously stuffing myself with the unripe green tamarind. I’ve followed the germination cycle of tamarind seeds.

But the tamarind flower I never met till last week.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Tamarindus indica

Isn't she beautiful?

Drabble Dare, and an Award

That temple is not native to Bombay- it has been patiently put together by immigrants in a bid to create a home away from home.

Those brightly-coloured statues would feel more at home on a busy Madras street, where they could hear people conversing in Tamil, not Marathi.
The only person comfortable in her surroundings is the cat- she will feel at in home anywhere.

There are stories waiting to be told, but somehow, I never got down to telling them. And now I have passed the challenge onto you. Tell the story behind the picture in exactly 100 words.

Once you are done with the story, you could mail it to theburrow360 (at) gmail dot com by Thursday (July 22, 2010) midnight GMT. Hurry!!!

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Laura Eno from A Shift in Dimensions awarded me the Fabulous Flash Award. In case you haven't visited Lauras' blog, you should. She writes the most amazing stories, and she writes them in 1,000 words or less. The amount of tension and humour she compresses into just thousand words is more than what a lesser writer would do in a complete novella.
Coming from Laura, the Award is equivalent to an Oscar for me. The only difference is that nobody is compelling me to make a speech!
I am supposed to pass the award onto four people, but I do not know of that many people who publish their Flash Fiction and/ or drabbles. So, I reserve the right keep the Award with me for now, and only pass it on when I find a sufficient number of worthy recipients.

Monsoon Magic

The Monsoons hit Bombay a little over a month back, and are still going strong. Since I am working from home four days a week right now, I can enjoy the rains as they are meant to be enjoyed.

Here are a couple of photographs I took of the plants on my window sills.

More shades of green than I imagined possible on my Aloe vera

The twin of the building I live in reflected on a droplet clinging onto my tamarind.

I think they look like pearls, my son insists they are diamonds. Either way, the raindrops on my powderpuff flower are beautiful, and precious.

And a photograph, I have always dreamt of taking. A bit of stem, some leaves and a droplet....

... zooms to reveal, a building trapped in its fragile walls.

Is it raining where you are? Are the rains as divine?

Sacrifice

There are few words I dislike more than the word ‘Sacrifice’.

Mothers who ‘sacrifice’ their lives for the kids, and demand the earth in return. The kids did not ask for the sacrifice- it was a choice willingly made.

Corporate professionals who ‘sacrifice’ a fat salary to work in a non-profit, and never let anyone forget it. Was it a sacrifice or a choice to do more meaningful work?

When will people realise that they are demeaning themselves by making sacrifices? Rational human beings have the power of choice. A person who cannot exercise that choice is only short-changing himself.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Women on the Street

The Goddess of prosperity,

The Mannequin in all her splendour (Gold),

The Woman with all her cares (Lakshmi).