CafeAwara

Gallery of a writer, photographer, actor and dreamer. Moments from a vagabond's life, dedicated to all other vagabonds.

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#quotes #quote #writersdiary #failedwriter #readittwice #travelersnotebook

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The road is my refuge. #roadphotography #road #scenicroute #peace #nilgiris #trees #shade #outdoors #landscape_lovers #ghats #india #forest #wanderlust

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The road is my refuge

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And the story took over. #girl #reading #read #children #book #storybook #engrossed #involved #intrigued #storytime #storybook #kids #holiday #schoolout #outdoors #portraitsofgirls #doorstep

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Antsi-establishment

We are like the ants. Slightly derailed, but ants nevertheless. Also, we're up on our feet, if that makes any difference. Wherever we go, no matter what we do, we try and build colonies. We gather people. Make them buy into our idea and form a society. Not always physical. We want approval on every spec of a thought we conceive. And only then we call it a thought. We want people to walk the same line as us. 'Please, please like my Facebook post', we pray. More the number of pretentious likes, more the validity. Majority wins. And the very subjective and extremely personal experience becomes a universal theory. We drop our jaws in awe and start following it blind-folded. Not realizing that the moments we're wasting doing that are the moments we could use to have our own experiences and draw our own conclusions. Who thinks so much. Just stick to a popular notion and carry on like the others. Stay in the colony. Stay in line. And we're safe. And if you don't, you're rejected, abused and thrown out of the queue we call The Circle. The psychopaths. Those we hire the watchmen for. Those we're afraid of. Because they don't brings books into fights. They bring themselves. One hundred percent raw. Not sheltered by disbelief, dressed in stage costumes or fed with false pride. Perhaps they form a colony of their own. But scattered. Like random black dots on white. Or the other way around. We don't accept them because the one next to us says we cannot. We don't become them because the one ahead of us says we must not. And we stay inside the gates. Of our great colony. Protected by the great wall of common stupidity called ambition.

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Just some coffee and books. #coffee #books #coffeeshop #coffeehouse #novels #cupofcoffee #caffeine #obsession #loveinacup #love #addicted #addiction #thecoffeecup #combo

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The kettle couple. #kettle #roadtrip #footpath #dawn #morning #chai #tea #riseup #pavement #_soi #streetphotography #darjeeling #twins #traveling #traveler #sadak #india

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In other news, the beggar mafia in India is getting awfully creative. Nice touch - the Gandhi make-up. May be they've hiked the drug dosage too. More income, right? We'll all look at this and say there should be a uniform on that skin and a book in those hands. But it'll all end with the saying. Because doing things means really doing things. And we don't have the time for that. Of course. There's so much interneting to do. #poverty #children #streetsofindia #thestreets #kid #boy #sadbuttrue #sad #underprivileged #theageofkali #gandhi #alltalknoaction #poor #theotherside #dark #india #indian #makeup #begging

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Gaav Naya in West Bengal, a 100 kms from Kolkata is a village with about 60 families dedicated to the eternal art of Patta Chitra. The children of that community wake up to adolescence with a paint brush in their hands. And for the rest of their lives, vivid story-telling on the canvas is their only mission. I had the privilege of meeting a senior artist from Naya who is 63 years old but he defies that ascending number with his infectious youthfulness and a voice that could leave you spell-bound for quite a while.

Ranjit Kalakaar is not just a painter, but also a poet and a fabulous singer whose inimitably husky voice echoes in the surroundings even after his vocal chords hit pause. All his paintings are first a poem, then a song and then comes its beautiful metamorphosis into a masterpiece on cloth.

His training in Patta Chitra started when he was only 10 years old and in half a century of his art-stricken life he has been recognized by the Government of West Bengal with 5 awards on different occasions. He has traveled almost the entire country with his work and has also tasted appreciation on the foreign land of Bangladesh. His application for an exhibition in London was rejected by the English Government and that did not disappoint him. He says all art is universal and a physical transit cannot confine it.

His art is not limited to mythology or other abstract fiction, but also extends to social issues and mishaps like the 9/11 attack in the United States and Tsunami at the South-Eastern belt of India to state a few. He almost always talks in poems and the ideas brimming and brewing in his mind reflect in his sparkling eyes.

This humble master craftsman is truly one in a million, keeping the ancient tradition alive, one canvas at a time.