STAND WITH TIBET NOW!

The protests continue all over the world. This time it was a Tibetian Women's Organisation in Bangalore. Ladies break down as the protests get more vociferous. China has cut off all communication lines and many don't know if their families are safe. Can you imagine being in such a situation? Is it fair to stand by and watch while others do? Well, stop being so cynical and sign the petition. Every vote counts... Call me naive but that's what I believe. Lets send these people all the good vibes we can.








1,336,350 have signed already. Please go an sign the petition at Avaaz.

Wondering what the Dalai Lama thinks about all this? Check out his recent interview with the BBC>>>>



And if you want to know more about the History of the Tibet situation check out this Documentary. It's almost an hour long but it's more than a worthwhile watch.

रूहानियत २००८

Not as brilliant as last year but still an evening well spent. :)

Check out the rest of the Ruhaniyat photos

6 years....

And counting. For 6 years people have been wrongly imprisoned at the Guatanamo Bay Detention 'Camp'. For 6 years, they have lived in cages. For 6 years, they have been blindfolded and chained. For 6 years, they have been tortured and denied basic human rights. For 6 years, they have not had any court hearing. For 6 years, they have suffered in a silence born of their muzzles and not their hearts or minds. For 6 years, the Bush administration has imprisoned these so-called terrorists and POWs, most of which were peasants and civilians picked up off the street in Afghanistan and Iraq.


Don't take my word for it. Go and read. Go and watch The Road To Guantanamo. Please be bothered that humanity hasn't found its soul even in this day and age with so much bloodshed behind us.


(photos taken at a protest in Bangalore)

All That Jazz

Cafe Du Sport

Mathew Littlewood Trio

Mathew Littlewood Trio

Mathew Littlewood Trio

Gerard Machado Syndicate

Radha Thomas

Bob Bonastra

Cafe Du Sport

MORE PHOTOS FROM THE JAZZ FESTIVAL

Batons and Violin

L.Subramanium with the Leipzig Chamber Orchestra

Ninasam

Went for a Kannada play recently by arguably the best company in Karnataka (Ninasam). Very interesting and very dark comedy. Incidentally my first attempt at photographing theatre theatre.

THE REST OF THE NINASAM PHOTOS

Not So Mammuli

I was in Mammulpet recently, where the wholesalers of the world (or atleast Bangalore) unite. Here you can get anything for the lowest price, pencil to pant, saree to statuette. Only for most of these things you need to be prepared to take back a whole bunch. These guys laugh out loud when you say you want 2-3. 100 stickers of Jesus and Mother Mary? Step right in sir.


But where there's money to be made, you'll find people aren't real sticklers for the rules. In some shops the wholesale ideal was sacrificed for a more plain and practical sale. We edged our way through the milling crowds that had everyone from low income mothers dragging their kids behind them to Page 3 types, trying hoity toitily to keep their high heels out of the muck. A real juxtaposition.


It didn't help that was with three girls united in a single minded need to shop for cheap clothes and that I was the only one who knew enough Kannada to keep asking for directions. And we went main road to street, street to lane, lane to bylane, bylane to gully, gully to building, up a dingy staircase and finally into a shop filled to the brim with clothes, people and salesmen all mingling together in a musty humid mess. Ventilation was something these people were talking about with fondness, like those old buildings that get replaced overnight by some concrete monstrosity.


But I'm a survivor and lived to tell this grubby sweaty tale. (note to self - NEVER AGAIN).

Marry Me Beyonce :)

50 seconds. That's what we were given. We balked. We fretted, fumed and kicked some non-existent pebbles. We groaned and moaned, begged and pleaded. Through all this we were shown the hand. The proverbial faces weren't listening. Beyonce's management said 50 seconds and 50 seconds are all we'll get. Ad nauseam.

So like a line of grumbling sheep we were marched into the photo pit. Where we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited....and waited. Finally, after all the instruments, stage settings, lights, sound, curtains, cameras, bouncers were in place, a PR person rushed through the line of lens, whispering in their ears, until she was rasping into mine (it wasn't much like a whisper after all).

"They've given you two songs," she hissed, making a thumbs up sign and flashing me that winning smile. I could hear the tension wearing down. The taut tight noose was now a comfortable lasso. Two songs to photograph Beyonce. That's like an eternity compared to 50 seconds. So we all stood and waited.

Until someone else came a-whispering. Only this time, to our dismay we had to move OUT of the photo pit. "To where??" many puzzled faces enquired. To the sound booth, in the back of the first section of the audience, with a good 20 rows of people between us and the stage. Ah. Nice. Thank you so much.

All this is well and good when you, like the Reuters guys have a monstrous telephoto that looks like some weapon Arnie would be packing. Otherwise you stand shoulder to shoulder with our nation's fine press and wonder how the hell you're going to get a clear shot of Beyonce.

So I broke free. Ran into the audience, squeezing, excusing myself and tramping on few toes (sorry :S) until I was 4-5 rows away from the stage. That's when the Beyonce burst happened with Crazy In Love. I was lost, oblivious to anything other than my camera. A little shift to the left and one to the right. Two songs went by in a burst of skin, colour, notes and lights.

I don't really listen to Beyonce's music but I have to admit that the show was SPOT ON. Her singing was powerful, seductive and soulful all at once. The production was huge, astronomical. And there were all those beautiful people - the dancers and the all-woman band of incredible musicians. I didn't stay for long but what I saw blew my socks off.

And there was Beyonce. Mere words won't suffice to describe a Goddess. Phew. Sigh. Gasp. Gurgle. Swoon. There was a guy in the front row, who had on a cheesy, hastily painted sweatshirt that said, "Beyonce Marry Me." I scoffed then, erroneously. Sigh.

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