Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Race of Time


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Shot by a fisherman on Murud Beach

every picture
invariably
has a story to tell
mans journey
on earth
both heaven and hell
fighting with himself
fighting with nature
his surroundings
a mutiny for bounty
he cannot quell
man is man
a born rebel
hope he buys
despair he sells
lucid eloquent
but words
he cant spell
mistaking
one for the other
an empty shell
man the
father of
a sperm cell
the beginning
of life
the end as well
he came
he saw
he departed
without
saying
farewell
he was created
in silence
his birth was
a shout
a cry and a yell
synchronized
to a future
in the soul
of a death bell


I made an ass of myself but it happens to us and there is no cure for it, we deliberately like to be hoodwinked by fate.

I shoot the bullock cart races and on Gudi Padwa I rushed to Murud to shoot the same a very long tiring trip barefeet from Gateway jetty to Alibagh to Murud.


I did not even call my photographer friends taking the event for granted , this was one big wasted bum trip the races were canceled due to a court order.


I was told to go t a nearby village Nandgaon but it was canceled out there too..finally beaten by fate disappointed disillusioned I returned home..


I am updating this blank post today poetically and expanding it as chapter in experience..

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