I looked up, at the aasman. And then I flew. I have this new cool super-power now. I can fly. Like birds. Unlike birds, I choose not to shit when in air though.

So I flew to bandstand. From where you get a good view of the sea-link. So that I could shoot some pictures. Had Subbu and MRP as my captive models. No, they didn’t fly to reach there like me. They took a rick.

At Bandstand, we realized that the sun-rays were not quite falling on the bridge. We took few pictures anyway, but decided to return to the place later in the evening. By when the sun would have moved to a convenient position. Next we reached the Gateway of India. Subbu and MRP in a taxi. Me flying. Arrey baba, sach me.

You cannot get the complete Gateway of India structure as a background in your photo if the only lens that you are carrying is a 135mm prime. I was carrying only a 135mm prime. For the first time I felt fucked up even with a lens as awesome as this one. Gateway of India is simply too big to capture it with a 135mm unless you can get a clear view from at least 300 meters way. Which we couldn’t. A 50mm could have done the job. I do have one. But mine is with Papa, Subbu’s with Neelabh and Tiwari’s with, well, Tiwari. When at GoI, still figuring out how to crack a good picture, a fat Indian lady asked me click a picture of hers from a point and shoot camera that she had, with a firang friend of hers. I clicked their picture. And then told them their faces were hardly visible because the sun was so high up in the sky. LOL – I was telling strangers who had requested me to shoot a picture of theirs from their P&S camera, that their picture, that I had just taken had come all fucked up. They gave me a look which kind of  meant – ‘ok superman. so what do you propose?’. I told them to tilt their heads up in the sky so that the sun-rays could fall on their faces. They did that. The fat lady said – ‘wow, you have managed to make me show my double chin. Thanks’. I clicked the picture anyway. Better than the last time. ‘Here you go’, I handed her the camera and said good-bye.

Because GoI refused to fit in my frame, we started walking around South Bombay in general. Just to see if we could chance upon something nice, worth capturing. The only thing that work for us in that area was the Colaba Causeway. Where I clicked few pictures of hers. I LOVE STREETSHOPPING – I would later ruin one such nice picture with these words. Typed in Impact font. With a yellowed LOVE to match the colour of the shoes that she wore when the picture was clicked. And you thought love’s colour was red or pink. Or something equally gay.

On our way back to Bandstand, we took a break at Hazi Ali. Some nice colourful snaps I could click. With some funny poses that we could think of. Even in Hazi Ali, a young muslim passed to me his cellphone so that I could click his picture. I clicked his picture. ‘Shukriya bhaijzaan’, he said. For a moment, I thought I was Salman Khaan. Then it occurred to me that Salmaan Khaan cannot fly. And I returned to reality.

In the city of Bangalore, there lived an autovalah named Baba Khan. Or it could be Baba Jaan. Pardon my poor memory. So the story is, he happened to drop MRP and myself from MG Road to Yashwantpur station once evening. And during the course of our short journey through dusty roads of Bangalore, he told us about how his income was falling short of his family’s requirements. And how he was especially worried about his children’s studies. I had almost assumed that Baba Khaan Jaan was going to ask for extra money once the journey was over. But he didn’t. The only thing that he asked, and because we told him we lived in Mumbai, was that if we happened to go to Hazi Ali, we should seek ‘duaayein’ for his family. When at Hazli Ali, I had a word with God. And God said he would see what he could do. That’s what God says all the time anyway. But asking is our job and we should keep doing that.

By the time, we returned to Bandstand, the sun was shining just in the right direction. We took some amazing pictures. We made some nice posters later. Mostly with cliched and copied lines like ‘I create my own path’ or ‘Dreams have only one owner a time’. But if you really think about it, these very cliched and copied lines say a lot. Don’t they?

On work front, it’s wonderful to get promoted again this year. Had heard of back to back promotions, but had never thought I was ever going to be serious enough in life to be accorded with one myself. Credit for this, if any, should go to Ali actually. More than to anyone else. Because he took work so seriously, I started taking work seriously too. And there you go. Work became interesting. And I burnt few good months of my like working like shit. The funny part is, I loved it. My work LOL, I still love my work. I find it creative and thought-provoking and intelligent and there is absolutely no doubt about it. I have to keep learning, keep evolving, keep putting different pieces together to form a clear picture that can be presented to those who pay us money. And believe me, I am getting good at all of it.

I am a manager now. Hmm. Good. Sounds kinda cool you know. Manager -> Sr. Manager -> Associate Director -> Partner. That’s how it works here. And then you can be a senior partner and stuff like that but that’s pretty much what this ladder is all about. About climbing, climbing and climbing, till yay – you are a Partner. And yet, I am sure, more sure than ever, that my life means more than breathing in and out to climb this ladder. Shaadi me photo kheenchna is better than being a partner of a leading global consulting firm, you ask? May be, you know. And I will tell you why I think like that. And why it need not apply to everyone.

In the quarter to four years of my working as a business consultant, all that I have ever worked upon, has been seen, reviewed, listened to, liked, disliked, loved, hated, read, thrown away, copied, forwarded, replied to, deleted by not more than two or three dozen people a the most. And this is my biggest problem. Very personal. Need not appear to be a problem to many. But for me, it is. The largest audience that I have ever had for a presentation (that I delivered) was probably a bunch of 100-150 odd folks in a conference hall in Los Angeles. And I was talking shit that evening anyway. Some marketing shit. That’s besides the point. The point is what it is – simply too little people to care about what I do most of the time. However creative and interesting it may be. And however much I get paid to work on it (no – I don’t get paid obscenely high either).

That’s why blogging was so much better. There was no upper limit on the number of people who could read my blog. LOL, I am sounding like I have stopped blogging since so long! But hey, have I not? I mean, fuck it man, the way I treat vatsap.com these days, I feel guilty of letting its glorious past turn into a distant history. I can only thank those who have still subscribed to it. Who still read it. Who still await the day when shit will be back. And you know what, the shit will be back. Give me a few months time and you will see it for itself. No, it’s not any impulsive vaada. It’s part of a long thought out strategy. So far, the plan has worked out. And insha-allah, if things go the way I have planned, I will be back to doing things that far more people can see, like, dislike, etc. etc.

Coming back to the question that I had raised above. Shaadi me photo kheenchna is better than being a partner of a leading global consulting firm, you ask? The answer is – yes, I will feel my life to be more fulfilling if hundreds and thousands of people watch pictures clicked by me than few dozen corporates (in formals with shaved thopda) telling me I made a wonderful presentation or say when I become a partner, my company chairman congratulating me on helping meet a target of 15 crore. Or 100 crore. Or whatever else that number be. Who gives a shit? I simply don’t want to work on things or create things which only few dozen folks will ever get to look at. Which is what I see the best that any partner can do today. It’s simply way too little to fight for. Way too less to climb for.

I want to create things for which there is not theoretical upper cap on viewership. And I don’t want to create wealth. Not saying it’s good or bad. It’s simply not what interests me – setting up a business, then expand it, then expand it further. A business enterprise is definitely an awesome creation and it does serve my purpose of working on something that has no upper limit on the number of people who can appreciate / see what you do. But it’s not my thing. I will tell you what my thing is. What my things are rather. And the list is only illustrative.

• Shitoons – I want them to be so good that everyone starts liking shit.
• Stories – of people I interact with, meet, hate, love. Stories of awesome things that I can do (like climbing Mt. Everest or riding a horse from Manali to Leh or playing the role of a villain in a bollywood movie). Because what would I write about if almost all the time that I have is spent doing work that is confidential? For clients who cannot be named? With colleagues who would not appreciate you talking ‘behind their back’?
• Photographs – Shaadigrapher is just the beginning. The idea is to keep this thing financially sustainable. Financial sustainability is like ‘infrastructure’ – the underlying basic stuff without which nothing else will work.
• And any other fucking thing which I can share with the world. Without thinking twice.

Unless I am doing things that are worth sharing on Facebook or worth blogging about or worth writing a book about, I am not sure there is any point in doing them anyway. There is no point in living life anyway.

You may please stick to your kickass stable jobs, keep paying your EMIs for your flat and your car and keep feeding and raising your kids. You may keep updating your Facebook status with ‘cool’ things like – ‘at a night club’, ‘in Goa’, ‘drunk’, ‘my new car’, ‘vacation in Hongkong Disneyland’. While I will show you guys how to live life. 24X7. Even if it may not be the best life to live. As long as its worth sharing.

I was sitting in a coffee-shop inside the Mumbai airport, waiting for my flight to Hyderabad, when this call came. When for the first time, a stranger referred to me as ‘photographer Amrit’. How nice.

Neelabh and I had a rocking time doing our first paid shoot. With our newly updated gear. It got a little hectic and tiring but now that we are going through the thousands of pictures that we have clicked, we are stunned with our own abilities! Do check few updates on the updated slider view of Shaadigrapher.com home page. On FB, search for Shaadigrapher and like it if you like the pictures.

I returned to Mumbai only few hours back. At about 1130 in the night. I rang the bell. She opened the door. I smiled, looked into her eyes and said – ‘I am back from my shoot darling’. And believe me it felt awesome when I said that.

Neelabh and I believe these stories need to be captured the way they unfold. Naturally. Happily. But we realized most of the regular photographers weren’t doing this right. So we thought, let’s do it ourselves. And then we started doing it ourselves. Clicking pictures not for the sake of clicking because someone paid us. But for the sake of the stories we just mentioned about. For the sake of pure happiness and dhoom-dhadaka that Indian weddings are all about.

And now we have gone official. We call ourselves shaadigraphers. Check out shaadigrapher.com for select portfolio. And if you like our work, spread the word around.

I also like the bright yellow coloured Nano. Irrespective of the colour, she hates Nanos in general. I think I will at least test drive a Nano. Some day. Even if I get to ride it for a nano kilometer. Ok, bad one. Nano karte pyaar tumhi se kar baithe. LOL, bad one again.

A bright yellow coloured Nano and the kind of metallic orange colour that I described coloured Nissan where once talking to each other. I overheard.

Nano to Nissan – Jai Jawaan, Jai Nissan.

Nissan to Nano – Fuck you.

Nano to Nissan – every body want’s to fuck me.

Nissan to Nano – Fuck everybody.

Nano to Nissan – Fuck Jawaan. Fuck Nissan.

Nissan to Nano – Fuck you Mumbai meri jaan.

Nano to Nissan – why drag Mumbai between you me and Jawaan?

Nissan to Nano – you got something better to drag between the three of us?

Nano to Nissan – everything’s better than Mumbai.

Nissan to Nano – fuck everything.

Nano to Nissan – is fuck the only verb you ever use?

Nissan to Nano – never gave a fuck to it.

Nano to Nissan – I love your colour. The colour of rotten orange. On metal. And before you say anything, fuck orange.

Nissan to Nano – fuck orange.

Orange to Nano and Nissan – fuck you both.

Nano to orange – now where did you come from?

Orange to Nano – from where everything else comes.

Nissan to Orange – and where does everything else come from?

Orange to Nissan – from nowhere.

Nissan to Orange – fuck nowhere.

Nano to Nissan – fuck everywhere.

Orange to Nano and Nissan – fuck somewhere.

Nano and Nissan rolled to somewhere. Orange rolled down to somewhere else. Got more rotten. Then completely rotten. Turned black. And was thrown into a dustbin. A fucking dustbin.

As the dustbin waited for folks contracted out by municipal corporation to clear its content, it saw a bright yellow coloured Nano come park itself next to a rotting orange colour in metallic texture Nissan. And they started conversing with each other.

Tota keeps telling me I have become like Ali myself. And therefore I have no more rights to taunt his ways. His way of living life. Or lack of life. I wonder why I changed. And when I think about it, I don’t think I changed at all. I have always acted and behaved (and even tried speaking in the same accent) as the people around me. May be that’s because my papa always told me that there is nothing that you can’t do if anyone else in this world can do it. Or may be I am generally making my papa sound responsible for the way I am because it always feels good to blame others for all the weird things in your life. So, what could I do if I had Tota and Tiwari for company in IIT but a running horse as company in Ahmedabad? I started running myself and LOL, I haven’t yet stopped.

I have this feeling Ali got married in the exact same garden where Tota had gotten married. To Maina. In Gwalior. In my flight to Gwalior from Mumbai, I ran across Ali’s cousin whom I had met a few times in Ahmedabad. Do you believe in the institution of marriage? She asked me.

I have a very personal take on this one. If you are already living in with someone, and you like living that way, why not as well get married? Why? So that your status gets somewhat legalized and your respective parents and families get to meet together on a particular day to celebrate your official union-ship? I mean, that’s pretty much how I look at marriage. An event that someone who has found a person worth living with, should not mind letting take place in his / her life. Marriage is nothing more. Nothing less. An event that brings few benefits. And costs some money (but people throw party and do shopping most of their lives anyway – with or without marriage – so no big deal about it).

‘You have grown thinner’, Kates remarked when I met him in hotel Park Inn in Gwalior. The place where baratis where made to stay. ‘You have grown thinner’, papa had remarked when I had visited home the weekend before that. I was in home so that I could formally introduce MRP’s parents to my parents. And to rest of my family who was available. Her parents had come over for the weekend so that things could be closed.

‘You have copied Amitabh Bachchan, haven’t you?’, Nanaji commented on sasurji’s french beard.

‘No, no, I have had beard – and full beard, since a long long time. These days I keep the french because otherwise it itches on the sides. When I was getting married, they asked me to get a shave at least for that day. So I took a shave. Only for marriage. Between then and today, I have hardly kept a clean face. I remember once when MRP was a baby and I removed my beard. Poor child. Started crying. Couldn’t recognize me.’

By the way, it is funny that I had beard myself when we had started dating each other – MRP and I. Generally saying. I hadn’t met her papa then.

‘Kehtaji is a good man. Straightforward. Just like Polu’, Nananji told papa after having conversed with sasurji for a while. My nick name is Polu if you are wondering who that duffass is. My family liked sasurji. And sasu-ma. I never asked sasurji and sasu-ma how they liked my parents and nana-nani and dada-dadi. I generally don’t ask such questions.

Sometime in the morning today, I asked MRP to close her eyes, think for a while and write down the following in a piece of paper.

1. Where she sees herself living five years down the line
2. What she sees herself doing five years down the line.

She closed her eyes, thought for a while and wrote something. I did the same. We passed on our respective folded pieces to each other.

1. Goa
2. Running a cafe

She had written.

1. British Columbia, Canada
2. Writing a book and taking pictures

I had written.

Aww, we are so cute. LOL.

Yes?

Always?

That’s a lie, ain’t it? At least for me. I don’t feel in love all the time. Yes, there are those moments, when you know you are in love. Whatever the hell love is. You know that, at that particular slice of time, you actually want to go to her, or if she is not around, call her up, and just let her know, that you love her. Whatever the hell love is.

Every other time, when she raises the question and you you answer in affirmative, it is just to avoid inconvenience. Like what would you tell her otherwise anyway? That you are not sure? That at that particular moment when she asked you, you are not sure? Bullshit.

Maybe because we want to keep our lives simple, we don’t give a shit to truth. Peace matters more than truth I guess. Even when you really think about it, how long are you going to peaceful with lies anyway? Pata nahi.

Some time back we were in Blue frog. Me, MRP, Tota and Maina. So have I totally totally gotten over Maina? The convenient answer is yes, but is that the truth? In fact that is almost true but is that the 100% truth? Of course not! ‘Maina looks very under-confident, why is it so, asked MRP yesterday. I didn’t know what to tell her. I don’t even know the Maina that exists today – haven’t really spoken to her that much. It was some other Maina that I knew and the very mention of the word under-confident brought me back memories of the under-confident Maina who I knew of. With whom, I spent such an awesome time back there in insti.

No wonder I felt uncomfortable with MRP asking about Maina. Because for her there is just one Maina. For me, there are two of them. Whatever Maina may be today, there was a time, and if not a time, a set of moments spread over time, when all I had for her was pure love. Whatever the hell love may be.

Ah, this is going nowhere. I wonder why I am writing all this here. Creating problems for myself, confusing people reading this. Confusing them about who I am, what I think. But do I really have a control over who I am and what I think? The only control that I have is over how I act or behave. I guess only few people will understand the depth of this post and may be so it is okay. Or may be Tota will get upset and stop talking to me once more. Like it was few years ago.

MRP, I want you to know that what I really enjoy is letting you be a part of my life, even if you annoy me at times, because you annoy me much less than anyone else. And you do make me feel loved by your sweet gestures once in a while. Similarly, I like being a part of your life – but just once in a while. Often, I am simply happy all by myself. Yes, there are times, when I feel like hugging you tight and giving you a peck on your cheek and holding you close to me for a long long time,  till either you or I sleep away. And that’s a lovely feeling, a wonderful feeling. That’s pure love. And yet, if I ever I think how life is going to be without you (which for whatever reasons, I hardly ever think because even the idea of that sounds very hypothetical), I don’t panic. I am prepared. I am like, fine, I will go on. With my cute little plans and things-to-do list, which will take up all my life anyway. Because the fact is, I was done with letting love for a girl rule my life, being the centre of my life. But just because I am done with it does not mean I don’t remember about the time when it was not so. When you ask me if I love you, my soul always thinks of what the word love had meant to me once, and it realizes that whatever I have for you, feel for you, is nowhere close to what I have been capable of.

And yet, I still think we are perfect to get married to. I think we can keep living together for many more years, the way we have lived together for so many months now.

Don’t ask me why I wrote this now. What does this post of mine means. I just felt like letting it all out. For you, for Maina. and for Tota.

There are things I can never forget. That standing on my hostel terrace trying to jump. Then giving it up because I thought let’s see what happens if I assume I am dead. I have been doing great ever since. Just that I am still dead. If not completely, then partially. Something did die that day and I know will never come back.

I can never forget how Tiwari dragged me from my room to our hostel bog. Because I had been lying there for ages without food and water. And then how he made water run over me. And brought me bak to life. whatever was left of.

I also remember trying it so hard for TF. Because there was so much of love, it had to flow somewhere. And when it was not collected by anyone, it jut flew out of the drain I guess. I can never forget how LOLY kept me active on the social circuit – cutting me off from isolation. Taking me to plays and pubs. I can never forget how Tota let it go finally and we started talking to each other the way we always used to, letting that stupid phase of our lives when we didn’t speak to each other fade away. And that doesn’t mean I don’t also remember the day he came to me and told me that the only reason we were friends was that he had been allotted a room next to me in Sarayu. That I was such a bad person that no other way would we have been friends. I wonder if he still believes in that. Because I don’t. I think may be he was very angry that day when he said that. I don’t really remember what day was that. Or what the context was. But those words still rattle. Somewhere.

Coming back to you MRP, you ask me often, if i will miss you when you are gone away from me for a day or two. And I always tell you I will let you know if I will miss you.  Because that’s exactly how it is with me. Even when I might actually miss you now and then, I don’t want to think about the two of us in that I-dont-want-to-miss-her ever kind of a way. I want to be prepared to live with whatever i have. I have very little fear of losing all that I have. That day when, when I had wanted to die so much,  I had lost everything. All that I have today, you, a nice job, friends who still exist, family who still wants me to spend time with them, are more than what I can ask for – things over and above a zero state of having. I belong to the zero state and so I don’t think I am made to miss anything. That does not mean I will not feel bad if I actually lose something. Be it you or my job or my lifestyle. But i don’t fear it too much. I have no intentions to hold on very tightly to anything.  I don’t keep praying to god that – ‘please  don’t take away anything from me’. I am always ready to keep going through whatever comes my way. And may be that’s why I act so weird at times. That’s why I never go overboard trying to make you happy. Because I want you to be happy irrespective of me. I want everyone to be happy just by themselves. Everything else is only a bonus.

Following are still the coolest things that I want to do, and will do them as and when I will.

Writing a book
reading 1000 books.
climbing Mt. Everest
Riding a horse from Manali to Leh
Sex on the beach
Playing the role of a villain in a movie

I still think this is all I really care do in this life. And may be a permanent fan following that keeps my ego happy. Ah, I so refuse to change. To life, I toast. Wherever it takes me.