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Did you catch the midnight?

Did you, my reader, catch the midnight?

Did you, limitlessly swaying your waist and martinis, over immoderate lights and sounds, hear another year step by like a barren wife to let a new bride embrace her husband?

Of course you did! You there, the young thing in the iPOD, heard the blockbuster splint through your veins in vapid enjoyment. And you, the gorgeous girl, with no-shed-dread clothing let your last vestiges of morals slip through the discreet hymen in some plush washroom with your drunk lover, working up a storm of passion.

And me. Well, me, I litsened to Janis Joplin, middle fingering God who hasn’t yet send her the Mercedez Benz.

Happy New Year guys.

(Just to clear doubts, am not drunk or in any other altitude of inebriation. Thank you peskies.)

2011, was especially painful for me. Things happened and did not happened. I shouldn’t be sitting here typing away. But I am. I went to this astrologer who told me my personal life’s all messed up. I’ll probably do good in life. I paid her fee and shot outta the place. Yeah probably. 

So, well, you know, photography bothers me. I mean, what does a photograph mean, anyway?

Whazzit? There was this amazing play I read where a character said that we’re creating memories every moment. You know. The word I typed before this word is now a memory. And this. And this. So what’re we capturing? A moment. You’re posting. Hey, you, stand and smile. I know you’re feeling terrible. But you know what? The sea’s looking b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l in the background. And we can make it better once we take out the photoshop tools. So just smile. Smile the way you look best. It’s a photograph. We can continue the quarrel back at home. But here, you’re being captured. So say cheeeese!

Until I saw this.

Shell Shocked by Don McCullin

Above is Shell Shocked by Don McCullin. Look at the picture carefully. Or maybe not carefully at all. Just look. This man wasn’t posing. Unfortunately he hadn’t the priviledge to feel the breeze blow by. This man went blank. You know. You must’ve felt it too. Your exam – sometime? Question paper’s in front of you…And you go numb..only for a second..then you gain it back, your senses, your control. This man was in wronger exam. In a war. Where blood was poured like water. Where organs lay about like heaped woollens at a winter sale. When I saw this courtesy my friend and a genial photographer Soham Gupta, I flipped up and said, “Hey, that’s not photography! That’s youknow, what-do-you-call-it.”

That’s that. There’s no word for it. It’s like being maddened with something. An emotion, a passion..and then you don’t want to say those overused three words, I love you. Love You? That’s insulting! How can you even dare to name that emotion.

If you’re back from celebrating the new year. Do celebrate some silence. Celebrate some thoughts. For those who wished they were dead by now, for those who dread the time passing by. For those who can’t say cheese.

Very Happy New Year guys. Have fun 🙂

Yours, Joblessly      The Jobless Ideator

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