Wolf Riding Dreams

Bristol Balloon Fest 08

2011-12-03T21:24:00.004+08:00

Finally got around to uploading the photos from Bristol's Balloon Festival 08.

The Pre-flight
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08Preflight#

The Red Arrows
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08RedArrows

The Misc
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08Misc

The Balloons
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08Balloons

The Night Glow
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08NightGlow

The Light
https://picasaweb.google.com/105743689900261982107/BristolBalloonFest08LightInDarkness

The memories :)

2 years now

2011-09-01T21:17:00.003+08:00

It has been 2 full years now, since my return to KL.

4 full seasons to reflect upon and give thanks for.
Through the ups and downs to the faithful one.
:)

Taman Tasik Cyberjaya

2010-05-30T08:50:00.006+08:00

Some tropical goodness I saw in Taman Tasik Cyberjaya.
The jackfruit, largest tree borne fruit in the world.

Cotton, vegetable lambs... this must be a good full flock of them.

Lilies in a lake.

These are the songs in a land of eternal summer.

SK: Rising sun. Dogs.

2010-05-30T07:56:00.015+08:00

Maybe there is much to be mourned when someone cease to derive pleasures from the simple things in life. When the ever-shifting colors and patterns in the sky elicit no more responds, when the back-lighted weed fluttering gently in the wind fails to warm your heart and when soft puppy tongues against your skin no longer brings delight, then perhaps you are well and truly dead while your heart still drums and your lungs shudder.

Once there was rain forest. Then plantations and orchards came. When the hands that tended the planted trees grew frail and old, nature reclaimed its ceded territories. Men in turn invaded with arms of steel and houses were built. In the midst of dust, concrete and steel, a migrant village sprang and prospered even as terraces and bungalows rose. In time, local men, perhaps whose forebear once owned lands on those verdant hills mobilized too. Steps were hewed once more with hoes and soles. wooden arches and simple huts were erected and before long, flowering plants grafted and pruned. Lanterns and altars joined the serene landscape soon after.

Now, crowds thronged the hills at dusk and dawn, seeking beauty, seeking gods.

If they truly are man's best friend, they can never be far behind where we go.

I do not believe men can be more industrious than ants, tirelessly burrowing an amphitheater in the sand.

But some are not too far off, working yesterday's grove for extra cash to feed the bulging tummy that will deflate in a few months time.

These are the testament of being alive.

May your life far exceeds your years.

Cameron Highlands - Sg Palas BOH Tea Plantation

2010-04-10T12:16:00.011+08:00

The place where we ran into the largest group of tourists was the tea plantation. There are few pleasures that can trump sipping tea on a veranda overlooking undulating waves of tea plantations, in the cool morning breeze while the sun has not yet reach its peak.

A closer view of tea-leafs, harvested indiscriminately by machines but handpicked and filter by men.

They were like shepherds sheering rolls of docile green sheep.

The accommodations of the workers were nestled in a valley between the hills, uniformly colored teal houses elevated on white stilts, a beautifully decorated Indian public school, and an Indian temple, head and shoulders above other building there.

The setting was idyllic enough to tourists and passerby like me. But is that really so, for someone swimming in seas of pesticide every day and night?

Cameron Highlands 2 - Kea Farm

2010-04-10T11:35:00.008+08:00

Rising early and hoping for sunrise on the mountain, shadows and clouds blocked the east squarely. The open piece of unobstructed sky was an ever lightening blue. A distance to the west, a white anvil fit for Thor's hammer caught the changing colors of dawn.

Here be the highest located village in the Cameron Highlands and also peninsular Malaysia. The town was already stirring with life as the roadside marketplace was being set up. Most tourists were still snug in bed. Through the narrow road where many trucks would pass, bearing the fresh produces, we came across seas of lettuces.

The heart-shaped plants opened like clams, with tiny beads of crystalline pearls skirting the fringe of their inner sanctum.

Flights of green watery steps cascaded down along the hillside like a waterfall with narrow walkways of stone, wood and iron crisscrossing them.

More colorful cousins of the earlier lettuces.

Red beacons beckons the matchmakers from afar.

A local arrayed in similar colors to the fruits.

One of these vermilion beauty followed us into the car en-route to Sg Palas BOH Tea Plantation.

It disappeared from my hand before we arrived, probably while the opening views of the enchanting valleys distracted me.

Cameron Highlands 1

2010-04-10T11:04:00.011+08:00

Date of trip: 19-20 March

Some quietness in the spine of peninsular Malaysia.

Ornamental fruits and walking white carrots.

Natural anaglyph splashed by the streetlight outside the hotel.

Sleeping Beauty's bane.

A cornered and cautious tabby.

More highland blossoms.

golden chicken fern. Said to have medicinal values and used as woolly blood stauncher, they are elusive except on the stalls along the old winding road leading up into Cameron.

Long may the gold that grows in tree prospers.

Hyderabad: Index

2010-04-04T22:37:00.003+08:00

Hyderabad, the experience during my stay as a Matchmove Apprentice there, between 11 Jan to 11 March 2010.

1. First Week & Pongal (link)
2. Ohri's Havmor - 70 MM (link)

3. Charminar 1 (link)
4. Golconda Fort (link)
5. the City (link)

6. Slice of Life 1 (link)

7. Chowmahalla Palace (link)
8. Charminar Streets (link)
9. Of Men and Wares (link)
10. On an Auto at Night (link)

11. Slice of Life 2 (link)

12. Shilparamam - the Rural Museum (link)
13. Shilparamam - the Kids (link)
14. Shilparamam - Stalls and Lawn (link)
15. Shilparamam - Night (link)

16. Holi (link) (Flickr gallery)

17. Slice of Life 3 - Herd Instincts (link)
18. The last Weekend (link)
19. Final Week (link)

20. Birthday Flight (link)

21. Index (back to top)
~~~

Hyderabad: Birthday Flight

2010-04-04T13:06:00.007+08:00

A birthday in 2 countries across the Indian ocean at dawn.

The shores of Malaysia once more.

We were there and back again.

Hyderabad: Final Week

2010-04-04T13:04:00.008+08:00

Some snippets on the final days before we flew.

We managed to go to the Barbecue Nation in Banjaran Hills too.

Morning on the last day - comparing the first picture I took of the same lake, the water level has dipped. For our 2 months, it only rained twice. A very far cry from lovely Bristol.

Evening on the last day - the end of a day at the slums.

This trip has been a very enriching experience. It has opened my eyes to things I have never seen both figuratively and literally. I cannot claim to have know a lot more about Indian culture, but I have certainly develop a new sense of curiosity. There were quite a few interesting incidents I could retell for times to come, including being stuck in a demonstration and potential riot as well as being swamped and 'robbed' by hungry young children in the slums. On the other hand, the colors and richness of India is unrivaled. By and large, Indians are warm and generous people - people who I hope to know more about and friendships I would like to develop.

Many many thanks again, to the people in Rhythm and Hue for making this life-changing experience possible. I deeply treasure the passion you have invested in this program. This was so much more than just learning about matchmoving - this has exposed us to a world beyond our own. As a person, I am forever richer because of you!

Hyderabad: The last Weekend

2010-04-04T12:54:00.014+08:00

The snapshot of our final weekend (7th of March) in Hyderabad.

Saturday
Another sunset from our apartment.

The first auto driver we patronized and ended up befriending.

The town of Kukatpally and the bovine train across the alleyway.

Sunday
A kite soared outside my window. These predatory birds were common, especially in the the city center near Hussain Sagar. But this was a first to see one so close to the apartment. It was an honor to be graced by it.

Our last outing to Kukatpally town for Aaron to hunt for copper cups.

In the diminishing daylight, we took a turn to the smaller lanes. Under the tangled wires overhead, new things are still to be discovered.

I only took the picture of this piece of jawbone because it looked like a fish.

At long last, I saw a monkey in India. The beautiful temple was nestled deep within the residential area. Were we to stick to the main road, we would have missed this most certainly.

A family of chicken crossing the road.

And sunset from the club house of Malaysian Township, our regular evening haunts.

Our apartment lay just beyond these oversize Yoda light sabers.

I wish to express my thanks to the admin team of Rhythm and Hue for their hospitality and making this stay a very pleasant one!

Hyderabad: Slice of Life 3 - Herd Instincts

2010-04-04T11:32:00.026+08:00

A herd of moomoo along the road.

Goats being herded by the traffic.

Sights on the way to the office.

There seem to be a propensity to give interesting names to their property. Wouldn't it be cool to tell someone I live in Alien Space Station 1?

Cyber Tower, a landmark of Cyberabad.

After watching Wolfman with the company the previous night, early Saturday morning I decided to head out to hunt for the wandering pigs. Activities were already beginning in the cool morning air.

I did not realize there were so many of them everywhere. You were bound to run into one every other lane.

Like all other baby animals in Hyderabad, these piglets seemed to have the 'flee on sight of human' wired deep within them. They bolted for cover, despite their lumbering mother busy digging casually a few feet away.

Of particular note is this piglet. It was the only one with stripes that I've found.

It was funny how when I showed these pictures to a butcher's son, his first thought was if these adorable things make delicious pork. I simply reminded him that these were garbage scavenger and I for one, would not want to eat them.

The trail of the pigs led me to the local train station, named 'Hi-tech City'. The logo looked strikingly like that of London Underground. Perhaps this was a relic of India's colonial past.

I decided to wait for passing trains at the station.

Beyond the platform, rock formations like these were common in Hyderabad. The hand painted advertisements on the natural landmarks were equally common.

On the terminal next to the station, autos and buses were waiting for customers while a game of cricket was underway. Cricket was humongous there. On days with important matches, the office would resound with cheering from one department to the other, even the channels in our apartment would be changed to accommodate their national passion.

On the other side of the railway track was a gated Christian cemetery, neighboring an unfenced one. As we passed by the place to work everyday. I was sure there were new additional members added to the ground. I also suspect we might have seen a burning pier with body as well.

The wait for train wasn't too long. Several local trains past the station in my one hour there.

Here, people prefer to stand precariously close to the door of the speeding train. I would freely confess that it was more exhilarating and less stuffy by the doors that never closes.

Walking across the railway tracks was another consistent behavior, despite the overhead bridge being literally steps away.

Indian trains came fast and lingered for even less time. Some of the train did not slow down gradually despite stopping at the station. The passengers had honed equal skills to match. Some would start running, chasing and even hop on before the train stops completely.

This was a cross-country train. It was a lot longer than the local ones and it exceeded the lenght of the local station.

A few more cargo trains would thunder across the track before I left the station.

A bird sitting on a blue fence watched under the shade as I leave.

I think this trip to India was extra special for me because of my recent stay in UK. You can observe and compare between the 2 lands and see how the British irrevocably changed their colony. On the other hand, the colony had held on to things that even the contemporary UK society has left behind.

Hyderabad: Holi

2010-04-04T11:25:00.004+08:00

Holi is also called the Festival of Colors. The spring festival is a big celebration there.

This year it fell on the first of March. Early in the morning, 2 water tankers were hired to the Malaysian Township just for that purpose. Towering speakers were added to the parking lot and a film crew from Tv9 was also present.

The revelry had already started by the time I got down there. But it wasn't until an hour later that the merry-making was in full swing. Before long, the tarmac ground was awash in pink and purple. To see the full gallery of merry-makers, please head over to my flickr gallery.

It was a very extraordinary experience for me. I had never seen so many people, from toddlers to the elderly, splashing each other with colored water and dancing to the blaring music. When I asked a local what was the meaning of the festival, the answer he gave was that this is to be a time when people set aside their differences and celebrate together. The cultural, historical or religious reasons aside, I think his was a very apt answer. In a land where heirachy was still very clear cut on many accounts, these were scenes in which you wouldn't believe any division existed especially between genders and age.

The laughter, the swaying hands raised in-tune to the deafening songs, women joining hands and shoulders to from swirling and circular queues, colored dust thrown to the wind, all these made the festive joy so palpable in the air.

We had our share of fun. I will definitely call this the highlight of my 2 months in Hyderabad.

What a privileged to be there at this time of the year!

Hyderabad: Shilparamam - Night

2010-04-04T10:25:00.006+08:00

This was our last visit to the place with the sole purpose of buying gifts. It was a Saturday night. However, there weren't as many people as our first visit.

The lights at night lent a brilliance to the already colorful wares.

By the puppet stand, a boy sat on the ground playing with a dog. I wanted a picture of their interaction. But the dog forsake the boy and took to following me instead.

Julian 'adopted' a dog along the way.

I have noticed that the stray dogs in Hyderabad were all very docile and timid. Almost all the time, they have their tails between their legs. When their sleep, they curled up into tight donuts. I can only suspect what atrocities had been committed to these canines. During my second Shilparamam visit, some teenagers were gleefully throwing rocks at a resting dog who were not even in their way. Maybe it is only within the shadows of caste and hierarchy that I can understand why.

Hyderabad: Shilparamam - Stalls and Lawn

2010-04-04T09:44:00.009+08:00

Walking along bouncing little feet, we passed by a lake where the goose bathed. The herder and fishermen in the distance were all life-size models.

A pair of holy cart-pullers were grazing in the shade. I thought the cows had very stylized eyes, like that we usually associate with Egyptian Cleopatra. The last picture below was a model.

A Rock Garden bordered the north-western corner of the park. Herein stood both natural rock formations and man-made ones. The friendly security guard on-duty also invited me to knock on the rock. He winked at me as some of the rocks returned a hollow rang.

'Wonder Dolls - Unbreakable' were the tag-line of this decorated hut. Between the hypocritical religious strive nowadays, it was indeed refreshing to see the idols sit side by side, at peace.

Now here is a saint who made a difference, unlike the dead and the mute altar-dust-covers.

One of the other main reason tourists frequented Shilparamam was for the craft bazaar. Here the artisans displayed their mass-produced hand-crafted works. Those seeking to improve their tenacity and bargaining skills could find no shortage of practice between these colorful stalls.

Nearby, the school girls took turn to have their delicate hands decorated with mehndi.

By the exit of the park, A wooden Ganesh looked straight through the gates.

The elephant-headed god was by far the most popular form of souvenirs we could find. He came in all shapes and sizes and from precious metals to wooden materials. Too bad elephants do not wander the streets of Hyderabad.

Hyderabad: Shilparamam - the Kids

2010-04-03T23:07:00.007+08:00

These were the spirited bunch I encountered in Shilparamam that sunny morning. It could be a chore to be asked to take pictures of them every few steps you walked. However, it was a joy to share in their youthful exuberance and boundless enthusiasm for the morning.

I never asked for their names, nor from which school they came from. This was a chance meeting of travelers. I wish them well, and perhaps in this vast public web, these pictures will find their way back to their subjects.

Hyderabad: Shilparamam - the Rural Museum

2010-04-03T21:58:00.020+08:00

SHILPARAMAM is the arts, crafts and cultural village in Hyderabad. It was a place I visited trice. The first time was at night around Pongal festival, when the place was packed with people and many extra stalls were set up all the way from the entrance to the Rural Museum, deep into the parkland. I did not bring a camera then. The second visit was around the end of Feb which is what this entry is about.

The day was young when I left the apartment. The auto driver dropped me on the wrong entrance to the site and I wasn't too compelled to correct him. Knowing that it would be more than half-an-hour till the park opened, I pass time by slinking into the huge auditorium compound next to the park. Banners of a Scottish band ran along the walkway leading to the foyer. There were no one there, except for the cleaners and a security guard sitting most comfortably at another gated entrance. When I have had my fill walking around and tailing stray dogs, I walked up to the gate with the security guard and pretended to be lost. He soon pointed me to where I should be going, from where I shouldn't have been in.

The portal to the craft village was beautifully decorated. A pair of majestic terracotta colored riders flanked the gates as wind chimes dangled from above.

Beside the gates, were these triangular niches and nails where the security would hang their caps and jackets.

Presiding high above, looking over all who pass through the gates were 3 miniature musicians.

Even though I was early, a sizable group of people had already gathered to await the ticket booth's opening. Of these visitors, 2 groups made up the majority, young couples and school children. There weren't many foreigners as far as I could guess from physical appearances. However, there might have been visitors from other parts of India.

Once through the gates. These man-height beautiful beasts stood in the shade by the lane.

A Hindu goddess monitored a junction while some Indian mermaids watched over the boating lake.

A painted elephant guarded the entrance to the rural museum. You can see a giant chair at the corner of the picture. It was meant for someone of its stature. On our first visit, the giant was there. I would be a hobbit beside the lanky but hunched over man twice my height.

Near the elephant was a great hall where cultural performances and events would be held.

This is the rural museum, depicting an Indian village to let visitors experience what rural and tribal lifestyle was suppose to be like. The huts of baked clay and thatch were nearly life size and many of the statues were certainly lifelike. From artisans, to weapon smiths and religious performers, they did present an interesting facet of Indian life we could not otherwise have seen in our stay.

Half-way through my visit of the rural museum, the tranquil morning air was shattered by the joyous laughter and incessant chatter of youngsters. The school children had caught up and they were busy weaving in and out of the many huts. A few took to the swing.

Initially, I was planning to take pictures of the frolicking children discreetly. Little did I expect them to turn the table so completely on me. Just by responding to the greeting of one of the boys consequently got me 'hired' as their photography for the remainder of the trip.

Hyderabad: Slice of Life 2

2010-04-03T16:50:00.010+08:00

Stuck in a traffic jam after dark.

Hot chips seller. I was rather fascinated by the wooden board he used to shred the potatoes into the boiling oil. Alas, no picture of that in action.

View from the office.

A friendly match between our Malaysian college (on your right) and Indian ones.

'Executive volley ball' where men in smart working attires partook after work.

More lovely Indian sunsets.

There were a good number of witty roadsigns such as 'Speed thrills but kills' and these,

A peacock decoration in a sari emporium. On the same day, in a similar shop I also saw an altar dedicated with 3 symbols in a frame. The Sacred Heart of Jesus sat in the middle, to its left was a Hindu deity, to the right, some Koranic script.

Malaysian township where we stayed.

and lastly, our flatmate.

The mosquitoes in our apartment seemed a lot slower than those in Malaysia. They are much easier to kill. I hadn't seen too many cockroaches when we first moved in. However, towards the end of our stay, we tend to come across dead ones regularly. The speed at which the ants dismantle the roaches were astoundingly fast. In a day's time, naught but an empty delicate shell would be left. With the slightest touch, the shell too would came apart.

Hyderabad: On an Auto at Night

2010-04-03T16:33:00.004+08:00

Across the Musi River at dusk.

Buildings both historical and new.

Fruit stalls by the street at night.

Tips of the day: when dealing with auto drivers who doesn't know the way yet willing to risk taking you, it is better to settle for a fix price prior to the journey than to go by the meter.

Hyderabad: Of Men and Wares

2010-03-30T22:08:00.018+08:00

This is about the people around Charminar on a late Sunday afternoon and the myriads of wares they sell. The photo record chronologically what we saw from Chowmahalla Palace's to the Mecca Mosque and Charminar, then northward towards the Musi River.

Balloon seller on a bike.

Colorful fruits the size of tennis balls.

Cinderella would be spoiled for choices here.

Colorful combs.

I wasn't sure what these folks were hammering away at. Looks like some silvery paper to me.

Just some stranger asking to be shot.

Accessories and fruits were common sight.

You've got to train'em young, no?

More shoes, decorations and even packets of drinking water.

An alleyway sandwich between the kaleidoscope stores, tempting us to see what was beyond.

More wares of any and every kind. The thronging pedestrians and merchant carts sent the traffic to a near standstill. For that stretch of the road outside the famous old bazaar, it was faster to walk than to ride or drive.

Silver colored wares were the most consistent thing in all the restaurants we had been to. Barring the more expensive buffets and posh dinning places, no matter how humble the eatery was, from a disheveled shack by the roadside, to the local flavored fast food chain and the canteen within the IT park, all of them uses the same multi-compartment plate.

A seller of antique (or analog, as in this case) things.

While the nuts and bread looked delicious, I was sure I lack the stomach for the generous amount of extra 'dusting' offered by the passing vehicles and crowds.

and of course auto drivers to take us back.

Bustling vitality permeated those ancient streets. The colorful plastic combs and squeaky toys may be modern, but I wonder how much has really changed from decades ago? Did the old men hammered the silvery papers the same way they did when their fathers were young? Your goods on a simple wooden cart on four wheels, powered by none other than your paddling feet, was it any different in your grandfather's time? Did beggars of old not fish for pity with clinging children upon their breast?

Is this what we as foreigners came to see and experience? What is the implication of this for someone living here? Between modernity and history, this place seemed secure yet was renegotiating its place with each passing day. Perhaps it was better to say that the new had merely trickled into this stronghold of tradition as raindrops through a hairline crack on venerable roof.

Hyderabad: Charminar Streets

2010-03-30T21:09:00.016+08:00

We emerged from the cool, spacious and private palace grounds into the starkly contrasting streets around Charminar.

Under the sinking sun, the streets were abuzz with activities. You can find countless hawkers peddling as many kind of wares as you can imagine, to haggard looking women slinging yearlings upon their grubby shawled shoulders and gripping passer-by's arms, while making the universal gesture of a cup palm pointing mouth-wards with their free hand.

Under multicolored signage and advertisements, as well as uniform green flags we passed.

Beneath mighty stone arches and beside the autos and cars that inched forward, we slipped between the crowds.

Through the rich smell and cacophonic sound, wisping smoke and deepening shadows, between the people living their everyday lives, we saw and shot.

Despite touching elbows and knocking shoulders with the locals, there was never a moment of mistake that I was foreign. This was not a world I could be a part of. I was ever aware of our difference and our cameras further marked us so. Every so often, we would run into strangers asking for their photograph to be taken as if they would derive pleasure from being captured. That would be the subject of the following entry.

Hyderabad: Chowmahalla Palace

2010-03-22T21:30:00.026+08:00

Date of visit: 21th Feb.

We had a little misadventure on our way to the palace, the lessons of the day being that taxi drivers does not always know where they are going, even if ordered from a reputable taxi company recommended by locals, and contrary to common sense, sometimes it is best not to use the fare meter. Our dear driver took us the long way round, tripled the distance we needed to travel and doubled the agreed fare for the sake of 'avoiding the traffic driving through downtown'. Thankfully, Ben was firm enough to stand our ground. we paid the initially agreed amount and left.

I would freely confess that the experience did soiled my mood until we entered the palace. Before long, the tranquility of the once royal residence overrode all other emotions.

Walking through these long sunlit corridors under the ivory structures, this was one of the most welcoming royal abode I had been to, relative to all the magnificent if foreboding fortresses. If there is any indication of past bloodshed, I did not felt it here. This felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven and above all, a home - a place of rest.

Between the simple yet elegant corridors, a fountain ran along the courtyard, flanked by blossoming plants. In the warm afternoon sun, gardeners tended watered the plants, spraying rainbows from their hose.

Pink flowers and burnish dead leafs sat lazily among the dominating algae far from the gushing fountainhead.

At the four corners of the pool, decorated cannons stood. Each sported different designs of animal motive. The most elaborate and well preserved one was furthest from the entrance, towards the left.

Not sure if these are Nagas, dragons, crocodile or something else.

Less detailed fishes adorned the other cannons.

The afternoon breeze set verdant leafs rustling as we ambled our way towards the central palace complex.

The innumerable pigeons roosting among the royal rooftops took flight as we neared, their fluttering wings adding a layer of melodies to the splashing water.

The age of the buildings became apparent upon closer inspection. However, what is remarkable is how the details in both stone and wood still hold up.

A clock tower, with its still dutifully functional clock sat to the side of the main complex. The wooden banister right beneath the clock, high above the ground, hung precariously with some nails missing.

Above the clock tower, a spectacular display of light rays was in performance. Angelic beams broke forth through the passing veils. Perhaps it was only after that day that I started paying attention to such occurrence that were in fact very common in Hyderabadi late afternoons.

Chandeliers glistered high above the Nizam's throne. An array of collections, from historical accounts and pictures, personal treasures to ornaments and weapons were on exhibition in the ante-chambers.

A lone tree stood alone on the field leading deeper into the complex where 2 more palaces and more fountains awaited.

It was between the main palace and these decorated archways that we encountered our second incident of the day. 3 girls, I would venture between 8 to 12 lived on the building right outside the palace's 2 stories-high walls. The girls shouted and pleaded with us coyly with their black shawl-covered head, bobbing enthusiastically above the walls. Between their seemingly innocent giggles, a love letter thrown at us, which they insisting that we read, and their cries of 'Mommy is not at home', I beat a hasty retreat through the archway, passing beyond their view and earshot. Looking innocent and angelic as they may be, these are either bored mischievous kids picking on foreign tourists who happen to stumble into their backyard regularly or succubus with much more sinister intent.

The back palaces had other beautiful things installed.

Yet at the far corner of the final courtyard, where the Nizam's cars were on display, 3 boys, much younger, in the age-range of 5 to 8, their leaning against the metal railings of their balcony in an upper-story flat built right outside the white walls, were busy trying to get our attention too. With the sun setting and a return trip to Charminar awaiting us, we took this as the cue to leave.

The fading sun set the white palace aglow with a warm fire.

Maybe this is why the Taj Mahal and a number of Hindu temples we saw were constructed in unblemished white - so that the Indian sky would drape colors far richer than paint over these beautiful structures.

Hyderabad: Slice of Life 1

2010-03-22T21:01:00.010+08:00

Sunset outside of my window.

Braving dust storms in an auto after the rush hour.

Wandering buffaloes by the road.

Another horned character vending wares among the vehicles stopped at a red light.

The omnipresent flocking pigeons.

Vehicles decorated with colors and love.

Buildings of yesterday's glory and a tangle bunch of wires.

Spectacular dust-blessed sunset and a motorist weeing at it.

View from In-Orbit, a shopping mall near the office.

Such were the everyday things we experienced there.

Hyderabad: the City

2010-03-21T19:35:00.014+08:00

Urban Hyderabad, a place of bustling traffic and crowded shopping malls. We managed to stumble across Hard Rock Hyderabad as we roamed the city.

A few of these inflatable mascots danced in the wind of passing traffic by a mall at a busy double-layered intersection. Hyderabad Central is a multistory mall thronging with aggressive people out to nab the best deals and to lay hold of the 'Happiness Sale'.

Auto-rickshaws are one of the major mode of transports here. A sizable amount of auto drivers waited by the busy malls as security guards tirelessly tried to chase them away with sticks unlike those used to discipline errant schoolboys.

Neither the crowd nor the traffic ease as night falls.

We took autos to rendezvous with some colleagues 20 minutes away.

The place was called 'Celebration' and a little girl, 1 year of age was celebrating her birthday. A poster thrice her height hung on the entrance as her elder friends and relatives sat in a circle.

Thank you Samik and Sita for suggesting the place and meeting us there. The north Indian food was lovely and the visiting folk musician played some of the most hauntingly beautiful song that I have heard. He was but a man, but it sounded as if he had a full band. I wasn't quite sure if he is a Bhopa (or priest singers) but he definitely performed some contemporary Bollywood songs on our hosts' request.

Hyderabad: Golconda Fort

2010-03-21T15:21:00.018+08:00

We visited Golconda Fort on 24th Jan. The setting sun was casting long shadows as we drove through its sturdy gates and cruise along its massive outer walls.

Far from being a ruin, the fort was bustling with people, both local and foreign. It was questionable if the old gray stones had not already recapture a portion of its former prosperity. Though it might have been abandoned and the finer treasures of the courts long removed, the hold exerted by its indomitable husk had perhaps never waned. I wondered what would it be like, living in proximity to such a magnificent place of bygone kingdoms.

This is the entrance to the fort. Beyond it rose the full view of the fort.

Right past the main gate was the grand portico where allegedly if you clap your hands, the sound could be heard at the highest point of the citadel. We did not get to try this, since the one clapping in the portico could not be the one to verify it on top.

What I found to be special of this fort is how it is still very much part of the local residents' life. A sleepy pup napped in the gentle tangerine light while people picnicked and played sports among the ruins.

As we hiked the well-worn steps to ascend the granite hill, more of Hyderabad came into view.

These rodents are common in the fort. After all, the cats need to eat.

Up we went and grander view greeted us.

Parts of the fort was more overgrown, a perfect place to relieve yourself should the need arises.

We did not stop for rest much along the way for the setting sun drove us on. The panoramic view offered by the elevated fort served as a prime spot to enjoy the sunset, yet another show of light and shadows beckoned us to descend as quickly as we climbed.

This was a mosque near the highest point of the fort. The delicate carvings on the minarets still endure to this day.

People on the rooftop was playing some sports, a testament that much life and passion yet exists within these ancient stones.

Green birds that were once common now lingered on a tree beside a contemporary Hindu temple.

These are the views from the highest point. We had a good look of the surrounding land. Stones, scrubs and dust were dominant elements in Hyderabad landscape.

For the most part, the downward path was a lot straighter and it barely took any time for us to reach the theater area in which we would listen to the story of Golconda and witness the light show.

We marched towards the once royal chambers. Between the swarm of frenzied mosquitoes and the dust in the air, I have problems imagining the very same place with carpets, tapestries and perfume.

If I should say that this is a hard place, even the cats looked different. There was another one with rugged coat with fur looking like spikes prowling proudly among the shadows.

In the halls of the royal household we sat, listening to their tales, a universal drama of love, loyalty and betrayal and of the rising and falling of dynasties. Hindi and Telegu songs blared between the narrations. The colored lights were pretty, if only they had shown a finale of washing the drab fort in rainbow hue.

After the hour-long presentation ended, we bid the well-fed vampires farewell and left the fort through golden tunnels perhaps alluding to its splendorous past.

The Koh-i-noor was said to have come from Golconda. I would like to see it one day.

Hyderabad: Charminar 1

2010-03-18T07:13:00.021+08:00

23rd Jan, we visited the Salar Jung Museum and Charminar with Amit. In the museum, there were quite a few display items that I found impressive, notwithstanding having been to the Louvre and other galleries UK. Chief of them was the Veiled Rebecca by the Italian sculptor, Giovanni Maria Benzoni of the 19th Century (the Salar Jung display was a copy) and the wooden double statue of Marguerite & Mephistopheles. Despite no photography being allowed within the museum, I did some sketching and became a walking exhibit myself. I did however shot some pictures en-route to the museum.

Crossing the Musi River: Stately buildings can be seem on both side of the river to the west of the bridge. To the east, there were rows and rows of verdant coconut trees. For a moment it felt like rural Malaysia.

Charminar, or (Mosque of the) Four Minarets are the foremost landmark of Hyderabad. As we drove closer to the Islamic monument, it was like driving back in time. The old market was a kaleidoscope of overcrowded signage, goods, people and auto rickshaws.

The monument looked impressive from afar. As we get closer, the intricate details were no less remarkable. The excellent workmanship of those days put the stark modern buildings to utter shame.

Vendors hawked their wares from fruits, plastic combs and toys to jewelry as we waited in the queue to ascend the minarets.

A panoramic view of the old city opened before us.
The North towards the Musi River from where we came.

The West has a narrower street.

The bustling South with the largest mosque in Hyderabad, Mecca Masjid.

Some interior architectural details.

Descending from the monument, we walked to Mecca Masjid, only 100 yards away.

We did not enter the mosque, but the courtyard held goodly numbers of pigeons and some pigeon droppings licking goats.

Pigeons parted like the Red Sea as tourists walked into their midst. A goat trotted lazily over the now empty courtyard, its dangling pink ears swaying gently with each cloven step.

The sun was setting when we left.

Photographs will never truly do justice to expressing India. Beyond being a colorful country, sound and smell are as much a part of the experiences as sight.

Hyderabad: Ohri's Havmor - 70 MM

2010-03-17T21:39:00.010+08:00

Friday the 22nd, Praveen brought Amit and the class to Ohri's 70MM on Necklace Road for dinner. Along the way to the Bollywood themed restaurant, I managed to shot some animal bins. There are monkeys, rabbits and penguins too.

70MM serves multi-cuisine buffets. Good food aside, what I like most was the rich deco. Personally, I think the price was a steal. I heartily recommends this one.

Thank you again Praveen, for inviting us over to your wonderfully designed abode with a fabulous view of the Necklace Road along Hussian Sagar Lake. The meal in 70MM was also great, I like everything about it, from the variety and taste of the food to the ambiance and decorations there. It was a very good night to remember!

Hyderabad: First Week & Pongal

2010-03-17T20:33:00.020+08:00

We touched down in Hyderabad minutes after midnight on 11th Jan. As we emerged from Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, the first thing that caught my eyes were the clearly defined tangerine spheres around the streetlights. They were like suspended jack-o-lanterns with almost pitch darkness stretching into the distance. Between the sumptuous mid-flight supper and the desire to catch a glimpse of the stars, I only managed a catnap. I did wonder if my squinting eyes were playing tricks.

As we boarded the company cab with the radio blaring with energetic Indian songs and speeding through roads in as many varying stages of construction as conceivable, I was convinced that it was the air. The texture of the air in Hyderabad was palpably or rather visually different. The world seemed to be under a different filter than all other places I had visited. Radial radiance of rainbow hue were all too common around the lights of approaching vehicles. Along the way, we also saw a few burning barrels where the night workers and poorer people huddled. It was near the end of winter, though much more comfortable than an English one.

This was the first picture I took, waking up at dawn, looking out through the window of my room.

Same view in the late afternoon. (I would revisit this time and again.)

Along the way to the office: dust, boulders and stones, pulverized or whole dominated the landscape wherever you should turn.

These pink pompoms adorned a tree outside our office. They bloomed only briefly. Within a week, the same tree would be bare once more. Yet even a tree with shriveled leafs can be beautiful.

On the night of 13th Jan, we found this wretched creature caught within a spider's web. As we would soon learn, mosquitoes, ants and cockroaches were our most intimate housemates.

14th was a holiday. It was the festival of Pongal and Makara Sankranthi. I scouted the Malaysian Township where we stayed and found some Kolams (a form of sand painting drawn using rice powder) on doorsteps and entrances of buildings.

These are my initial impressions of Hyderabad.

Beach: Bagan Nakhoda Omar

2010-01-07T19:44:00.015+08:00

I made this trip way back in late September, on the same day I visited the paddy fields of Sekinchan and saw the funky monkeys. The beach of Bagan Nakhoda Omar wasn't too busy compared, in part due to it being the fasting month for Muslim. The cerulean sky was clear and perfect. There were storm clouds in the distance, but it would be hours before they arrive - if they arrive at all.

The tide was way out and many locals and tourists were busy excavating delicacies in the sand.

In the shallow water, I picked up a hermit crab. The shy decapod crustacean only deign to extrude from its fortress after being left suspending motionless in mid-air for a fair while. A slight jerk of my hand would send it bolting back into its stronghold.

More crustaceans littered the sand. Another hermit crept gently though a saline stream.

Where there are living things, there will be dead ones.

The tide crafted different designs in the sand, some were fine parallel lines, others were more blotchy.

The tidal plane was mostly flat, except for the occasional rocks where barnacles and shells proliferate. If you look closely enough, the stripped legs of some hermits can be seen, jutting out of their current accommodation.

It was close to noon. The tropical sun was at its peak. The beach was baked with water and sand running warm beneath your feet. Yet none of the sweat-drenched beach combers were deterred by the heat. Parasols were opened as they press on.

I had been in temperate climate for close to 2 years. The Equatorial sun in its full glory was something I had not experience for a while. Crossing a stream, rising as the distant tide lulls in, I sought respite in a nearby mangrove forest.

These were black mangroves (or Avicennia germinans) with their pneumatophores. (Biologist/botanists out there, correct me if I'm wrong)

I lingered in their shelter until the stream I crossed from the beach ran higher and higher. By now, anyone foolish enough to venture under the sun unprotected was starting to turn red. Heading to the car, I pocketed 2 more hermit real-estates.

When we drove away, all the 2 legged mammals has left the beach. Some have moved under the shelter of man-made structures for picnics. Others were hauling the bounty of their morning's diligent digging back home for a feast. In a few hours time, the tide would come in, swallowing the beach almost completely.

Quotes on Art and Life

2010-01-06T10:22:00.005+08:00

A punctuation of texts for the influx of pictures recently in this blog.

From John Ruskin's On Art and Life by Peguin Books, Great Ideas (I love these pocket sized travel friendly series.)

Do what you can, and confess frankly what you are unable to do,
neither let your effort be shortened for fear of failure,
nor your confession silenced for fear of shame.

Now it is only by labour that thought can be made healthy, and only by thought that labour can be made happy, and the two cannot be separated with impunity. (page 24)

All art worthy the name is the energy - neither of the human body alone, not of the human soul alone, but of both united, one guiding the other: good craftsmanship and work of the fingers joined with good emotion and work of the heart. (page 69)

~~~

Some I manage to plug from online. Especially from the podcast of Sidebar.

Make sure wherever you go after school, you are not the best guy there.
~ David Groove

Draw now, think about it later.
~ Greg Munchess

But mostly I feel happy to be part of something far bigger than myself. I like being part of a team, it's why I write scripts rather than novels.
~ Jack Thorne, writer of The Scouting Book For Boys, shares his diary

Nothing should be prized more highly than the value of each day.
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life and elevating them to an art.
~ William Morris

Creative ideas reside in people’s minds but are trapped by fear or rejection. Create a judgment-free environment and you’ll unleash a torrent of creativity.
~ Alex Osborne

Change does not change tradition. It strengthens it. Change is a challenge and an opportunity; not a threat.
~ Prince Phillip of England

~~~

From Unlimited Power by Antony Robbins.

Success: to laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Success is the ongoing process of striving to become more.

The opportunity to continually grow emotionally, socially, spiritually, physiologically, intellectually and financially while contributing in some positive way to others. The road to success is always under construction.

~~~

From the armory in Kevingroove Museum.

When you cross sword with an enemy you must not think of cutting him either strongly or weakly; just think of cutting and killing him.
~ Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings, 1645

It has to be lamented, that man, ever in a progressive state of civilization, differs little from the savage in his thirst for gratifying the degrading indulgence of revenge.
~ JG Millingen, the History of Dueling, 1942

~~~

And those I pillaged from the walls in the same art gallery,

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.
~ Camille Pissarro

...it is the human aspect of things, that which is plainly human, that touches me most in art.
~ Jean-François Millet

In a word, what I wanted to do was create a style for our age.
~ Emile Bernard

Monet is one of the few painters who know how to paint water... With him, water is alive and deep. It is true water.
~ Emile Zola

I do not literally paint that table, but the emotion it produces upon me.
~ Henri Matisse

I want to conquer Paris with an apple.
~ Paul Cezanne

I don't paint portraits, I paint people in their homes.
~ Édouard Vuillard

The portrait is one of the most curious art forms. It demands special qualities in the artist and an almost total kinship with the model.
~ Henri Matisse

I want to make portraits that will be revelations... in a century's time... I am not trying to paint using a photographic likeness...
~ Vincent van Gogh.

~~~

And a last one from me. On the week before our degree show exhibition was due, a friend of our classmate jumped from the Suspension Bridge. If only he can see how much his friends huddled and cried and was miserable after that. I will say in this day and age, even boredom can literally kills, but hey,

A successful suicide can only be committed once - don't squander it!
Therefore, live.

At least live till a day when there is a good enough reason to commit it. And chances are, by then you would realize the precious gift that is being Alive.

Crossing "the Tens"

2010-01-06T09:50:00.008+08:00

Some snippets of crossing into "the Tens". Among the final days of the 1st decade of the 3rd millennium, the sky was burning.

There will always be thorny things in life.

And sometimes you may find "jelly fishes" on the ground.

You picked one up, but it didn't tickle at all, unlike these brushy things.

Flower, fungus, fruits - facts of life, a cycle of renewal and decay.

This was the last picture I took in 2009, a slow but determined snail.

This was the first picture I took in 2010, a blue moon an hour after midnight.

On the first day of "the Tens" ducks bathed in the shower and sang in the rain.

The floodgates of heaven opened.

A frog peered out from the safety of its churning drain.

And raindrops, trickling down a leafless branch, crystallizing the moment of a new decade.

Soon the rain departs. I didn't go hunting for rainbows.

UK 2.0: Index

2009-12-31T12:33:00.009+08:00

UK 2.0, being a Chronicles of my travels in UK, Prague and Vienna in November 2009

1. The UWE Graduation Ceremony in Bristol Cathedral (link)

2. London (link)

3. Scotland
3.1 Flight: Bristol - Edinburgh (link)

3.2 Edinburgh - Day 1 (link)
3.3 Edinburgh - Holyrood (link)

3.4 Timberbush 1 - Hamish (link)
3.5 Timberbush 2 - The Highlands (link)
3.6 Timberbush 3 - Glen Coe (link)
3.7 Timberbush 4 - Fort Williams & Ben Nevis (link)
3.8 Timberbush 5 - Urquhart Castle (link)
3.9 Timberbush 6 - Loch Ness (link)

3.10 Edinburgh - Day 3 - Glasgow (link)

3.11 Edinburgh - Day 4 - Beach (link)
3.12 Edinburgh - Day 4 - Castle (link)

3.13 Flight: Edinburgh - Bristol (link)

4. Brighton (link)

5. Prague and Vienna (Wien)
5.1 Flight: Bristol - Prague (link)

5.2 Prague - Day 1 (link)

5.3 Train: Prague - Vienna (link)

5.4 Wien - Day 1 (link)
5.5 Wien - Nights of Christmas Markets (link)

5.6 Wien - Day 2 The New (link)
5.7 Wien - Day 2 Vineyard of Nußdorf (link)

5.8 Train: Vienna - Prague (link)

5.9 Prague - Day 2 Evening (link)
5.10 Prague - Day 3 (link)

5.11 Flight: Prague - Bristol (link)

6. Bristol - The Farewell (link)

7. The Flights
7.1 Flight: Dubai - London - Pt1 (link)
7.2 Flight: Dubai - London - Pt2 (link)
7.3 Flight: Dubai - London - Pt3 (link)

7.4 Flight: the Homecoming (link)

8. Index (back to top)
~~~

UK 2.0: Flight: the Homecoming

2009-12-31T12:12:00.004+08:00

Do not walk outside this area. So we were told. Our eyes can always go further than our feet.

This is the end of UK 2.0 chronicles.

A conclusion to an obsession on the last day of the year, I might say. These entries and pictures, however naive or doe eye, will be stories and experiences I can remember and re-live one day when my eyes are too dim and my legs too frail to cross the oceans and the continents. In recalling, I might be filled with gratitude for the unfathomable kindness and generosity and beauty and majesty I have had a blessedness to encounter on this good Earth. Everything contained within this blog are gifts. Gifts from people dear to me. Gifts from people I never know, who sculpted the lands and crafted the things that touched my soul. Gifts from one who has seen all these things and more, even before the genesis of time.

Merry Christmas and Happy 2010.
May we always seek and never fail to find peace and goodwill, that is unto all.

UK 2.0: Flight: Dubai - London - Pt3

2009-12-31T11:21:00.014+08:00

Clouds are like you and me. They come in every shape, form and size.

Under these clouds were so many famous European Cities, if only we could catch a glimpse of them. The light path definitely stray very near to both Budapest, Vienna and Prague.

Some clouds were so dense and even that you get the illusion of being able to walk on them. This solid white mass should be able to support a stampeding herd of Diplodocus with T-rexes in hot pursuit, no? What joy it would be if we could roll and frolic on these clouds.

After a small reprieve for the land below to see the sun, a halo fell on reappearing carpets.

We were over half-way now and the gentle descend began.

I was very thrilled to see our shadow falling squarely in the halo. The Good Lord must have blessed this flight.

Down through the clouds we went.

Ah, English lands! A dear sight I have not behold since Malaysia's National Day. London from above. Emirates Stadium (Arsenal) can be seen below.

More skylines in the heart of London. We did pass Tower Bridge, but I wasn't quick enough to shoot it.

A bend on the Thames revealed many familiar landmarks of London. The Eye remained the most eye catching one. From there, you can easily trace Trafalgar Square and the the other areas of Greater London.

The Buckingham Palace.

Some suburbs, lots of cars and Heathrow.

We were finally there, after a 14 hour flight with 3 hours stopover at Dubai.

UK 2.0: Flight: Dubai - London - Pt2

2009-12-31T10:25:00.014+08:00

Having just being impressed by the work of man. Planet Earth gave her rebuttal. Awe was the word to describe the experience. It was like having the adrenaline rush of being hit by a rocket freshly launch from the pad. Let my inadequate words be few. Behold for yourself the grandeur of creation!

See the white pinnacles rising through the clouds in the distance. This was so out of the familiar Earth that I know, I would believe you if you tell me I'm on another planet now.

I am not sure if these impressive snow caped peaks and unbroken mountain chains were from Iran, but I'm inclinded to believe so, having recalled seeing Tabrīz on the 'Airshow' sometime. As the chain grew gentler, lines appeared. I could not tell if this was a river or a road. The latter was definitely a road.

We passed through more shorelines, probably the Black Sea and veered near Istanbul. The Black Sea would be the last major body of water we would see until we have crossed all of continental Europe.

More major cities would pass under us.

David Attenborough narrated in the 'Seasonal Forest' episode of BBC's acclaimed Planet Earth series of how the leafs' autumn transfiguration was visible from even from space. This bronze groove testified to his claims.

Once we hit continental Europe, clouds began to roll in. The white woolen carpet stretched like an unbroken blanket over the whole Europe.

Clouds will be the main theme of Pt3.