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I saw this row of red buses all lined up at a signal at Trafalgar Square, while I was waiting for a bus on the opposite side to take me to Baker’s Street. The buses contrasted beautifully with the grey of the buildings, Nelson’s column and the road, as well as the cloudy blue sky.
And before I knew it, I was digging into my backpack for the camera. 🙂
One morning in early November, about 2 years back, I decided to go for a walk. At that time, I was living in London. I didn’t have to go too far as Regent’s Park was next door to where I was staying.
I took my camera with me as I intended to photograph some of the beautiful trees in the park, particularly those trees, which had exposed a stunningly symmetrical structure after shedding all their leaves (see photo on the left).
After a leisurely stroll through the Park, I arrived at the place where I had noticed these trees. There was no one else nearby, save an elderly man who was well wrapped up against the cold. As I overtook him, I murmured a “Good Morning” to which I received a acknowledging nod.
I moved towards the trees and was soon clicking away. After a few minutes, I sensed someone close by watching me. I turned around to see that the elderly man, I had just greeted, had walked up to see what I was photographing.
He asked me gruffly, “Young lady, why are you photographing that tree? It’s bare !”
Continue reading “Do you like winter?”
All cities have a past that they would rather forget about and not acknowledge or showcase it to adoring tourists. The Cross Bones Graveyard in London is one such place.
Located in the Southwark borough of London, near London Bridge, the Graveyard was an unconsecrated site for burying over 15,000 prostitutes and paupers of medieval London. Though the site was never a secret, it came into prominence in the early 1990s when it was dug up for construction of the Jubilee Line of the London Underground. Excavators found an unusually “crowded graveyard with bodies being piled on top of one another”. Forensic tests showed that most of the buried had suffered from some disease or the other.
I visited the Cross Bones Graveyard one July evening as part of “The Other London Walk”, a guided walk conducted by a homeless woman. She led our group to the sites of London’s other history, a history not showcased to tourists—a London of the deprived, the homeless, the sick, and the disadvantaged.
The simple memorial plaque affixed to the gates only says what the site is, but the gates which are “festooned” with ribbons, and messages and prayers convey a far more powerful and poignant message.
For a short while, it appeared as if there there was nobody on this platform of North Greenwich tube station (Jubilee Line), except for this woman and me. Her blue jeans and red jacket mirrored the blue and red colour scheme of the station. Her slumped posture and her back to the camera, seemed to me to be the perfect setting for Edward Hopper, one of my favourite painters.
How could I not capture this shot?
Sometimes, in this journey called life, one meets people who are there with you for only a short while, almost as if they were on a specific purpose—that of making a positive difference to your life. I met one such person in the very first week of a year-long stay in London—Mohand.
But before I tell you more about Mohand, a little background information…
The year in London is, perhaps, the most memorable year of my life, in more ways than one. And one of them was searching for affordable, vegetarian food that I could manage within my limited scholarship allowance. I could have cooked in the communal kitchen in the place where I stayed, but I could not stomach the sight and smell of meat, chicken, fish, etc.
Rajshri, a friend & colleague from work, was already in London on a short-term visit when I arrived. A vegetarian herself, she had done quite a bit of research on vegetarian food joints in Central London and introduced me to some of them. The Cafe le Midi, on 23 Warren Street, was one such place, and we would meet up for lunch on Saturdays there. Rajshri soon returned to India, but I continued going to the Cafe every Saturday for lunch.
Continue reading “A special friend”
I visited the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, better known as Wimbledon last September. The first thing that strikes you about the place is the colour coordination—green, purple and white. The colour combination prevails in buildings, seats, flowers–everything.
But I am getting a little ahead of the story. Like all things, let me begin at the beginning.
Continue reading “Colour Coordinated Wimbledon”
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