Book Launchitis and some trivia about Ink Dries

Since I had been through the whole process of a Book Launch / Release
earlier (with Moving On), I was a lot less expectant and (looking at
something relatively low-key). Since I am still kinda cussed about
not forcing my poetry on anyone, I also did not go around personally
inviting those close (or at least those I think are close) as if the event in question was my marriage.

And all in all, it was a good event; a book of poetry came out / was launched /
got released and since U was there as my interpreter (typing up questions
-- asked by the audience -- for me to read on GTalk and respond to) there was
a fairly good interaction too. I guess this is a template I can use down the
line too.

I don't know if it shows me in a better or a worse light, but any
interaction with readers / prospective readers is good for the book. And,
considering that I did almost nothing for Moving On, its a sea change
for Ink Dries, something that this book does deserve.

Umm...what exactly is Launchitis, you may ask?

I cannot exactly explain it, lets say I have just coined another word and it
refers to a peculiar sense of ennui / estrangement / withdrawal (?) or a
peculiar trepidation resulting out of "what next" now? But then, its there,
or was there...for the first 2-3 days following the launch / release.

Maybe I won't feel this next time around, or maybe it will be even acuter
as I write poetry that "says" more, who knows...

Now for some trivia and a bit of this and that about Ink Dries.

The book has some 75 odd (need I count and be exact?) poems with two of
them long poems. It also presents some poems that I had written some 10
years or so back and lost; but were safe with U...

The book also has some poems that deal with the logophile part of me;
my innate love for words immaterial of their meaning and context and
how I keep making them do what I want them to do. And the worship of
pith -- as poet and copywriter.

The editing was done at the seventh floor flat of my editor, G, over
two sessions, and the second time we had sat down to it, I could see a
black kite at eye level through the balcony :-) That was one surreal
experience and I really envy G for getting to see black kites in
the eye on a fairly common basis.

Quite a few of the poems in Ink Dries deal with nature; in fact while
describing myself for the only writer workshop that I had applied to
in 2011 (the application was late by an hour), I said "I am primarily
a poet of nature" and it shows in these poems too; poems that weren't
easy to write or pin down and perfect, but poems that I am happy
and thrilled, came to me.

As I write this, I am all set to visit Bharatpur Wildlife Sanctuary
tomorrow, for a day long session of birding. And I know there will
be much more than photos on offer tomorrow, I know more poems will
come too. I just hope I can write them all down!

Oh, here's the last bit -- I am utterly cured of Launchitis now
and its been one full week of hectic travel and the thrills of
being out on the road. What fun, in fact!

A train to Delhi and Varanasi -- my gullibility travels (again)

A couple of days back, I have had the most peculiar dream;
that I am in a truck (or some kind of a cargo carrier, anyway)
wearing an expression of absolute tiredness, totally beat
and sweat-drenched and evidently in shock. Shock on
discovering that though I have my rucksack with me, I have
forgotten quite a lot of stuff behind -- namely my sleeping
bag, my tent, my camera tripod, a diary and so on...

Thankfully it was just a dream and I woke up to reality and
the fact that its been long since I have tripped in a way that
needed a sleeping bag and a tent.

But yeah, if you dig dreams the way I do -- this dream tells you
two things (or at least that's what I think);

i.) I have been planning a major trip and been thinking of
roughing it out too.
ii.) I am a bad traveler; at least in terms of losing things
while on the road.

And if you thought so, you would be right. Because I have been
contemplating a long trip up north -- starting from Kullu and
heading to Kedarnath and Badrinath and a bit of a bigger hike
into the snowy expanses all around. And yes, I am a bad traveler
and have lost quite a bit of stuff on the road. A list that
includes 2 pairs of hawai chappals, one set of gum boots
(this was in Ladakh in 2005 when my gear was bungeed down in a
fashion that would have made any tinker go green with envy), a
pair of Bermudas (this was somewhere after Pune when I was
returning back from a ride to Gujurat; I had the Bermudas spread
on the seat for some more comfort to my sore but and then they
just took wing somewhere), a Lonely Planet, a diary with detailed
trip logs (somewhere near Gira waterfalls in Dangs way back from
Ladakh in 2005), a tripod and a sleeping bag (at Barr in Rajasthan,
on way back from Ladakh in 2005 -- stolen while I was making a
STD call) and more helmets than I can remember...

Got to do with either the strain of being on the road, or not having
anyone watching my back or to do with my continued gullibility, but
then there you are, yes I have lost my fair share of this and that
on the road.

Oh well, while I am at it, I need to also make a clean breast of a
fact that would be downright criminal for any self-respecting
photographer (arguably also a traveler). I have also managed to
lose the lens hoods; of both the 18-105 and the 55-300 (Nikon
AF-VR) lenses I currently have. One was on the highway while I
was still getting used to the D-90 and the other was again on
the road (on a dirt track near my place, while I was on the
cycle -- way back from shooting nesting weaver birds).

So...ummm...well, hota hai yaar. Joke's on me and my gullibility,
you see.

So...ummm...well, it travels again, this time in the relative comfort
and order of a train. Heading out to Delhi (to meet a schoolmate whom
I haven't seen in more than 18 years) and thereafter to Varanasi and
the trip called Om Namaha Shivaya. And since a part of the journey
is unreserved, this should be fun :-)

No, for once I don't anticipate losing anything; but yes I look
forward to finding some poetry!

On seeing two young tradesmen in a bus

Neither of them looked as if they had ever shaved. Both were wearing thick, very workmansy jeans (of the type -- I still keep searching for, but fail to find in the brand showrooms -- that prospectors, cowboys and bikers favour for durability and ruggedness) and full-sleeved shirts and were well groomed and looking more or less like any urban 15-16 year old's would.

Both were also wearing boyish expressions of delight, as if they were going to a circus, cinema or cricket match. But immaterial of the boyish looks and their "holidayish" mein, these two were evidently headed for work and holding the tools of their trade in their hands.

One had an axe (the axehead comprising of a piece of a metal rib plate turned into an "O" at one end and sharpened at the other, with a still green and uncured handle of wood passing through the "O") and the other had a rudimentary machete -- a curved work knife of the kind used to cut open green coconuts or slice firewood, solidly fitted onto a handle; again of still green and uncured wood.

While I watched them -- standing in the bus with one shoulder tensed up by the grip of my arm on the grab rail and the other weighed down by the pendulum swing of the bag that carries what could be another tool of trade for me -- my DSLR -- I let me eyes do a surreptitious crawl of their faces, looking at them as subjects for my photographic eye. And noted that one of them had slightly brown hair with curls so fine he could have passed off for a Hasidic Jew and the other had a well shaped, almost aquiline nose and big wide-spaced eyes. Naturally, I started mentally calculating camera angles, aperture and shutter settings while thinking that both of them made eminent subjects and were worth working on for a day in a studio or outdoors with the sun blazing in resplendence.

Meanwhile the bus stopped and the boys got down, carefully making their way through the throng in the bus -- headed for a day's work -- at some site overgrown with Lantana and other scrub, in all probability; hands on each others shoulders.

I continued on in the bus, with the DSLR doing its pendulum swing on my shoulder.

Onto another day at work.

Part tradesman, part logophile, I work with my hands, labour with words -- I write.