Saturday, November 19, 2011

Hey you!


Hey there! Yes YOU!

How about removing that mask for a while?

Or just putting those black inanimate threads off your eyes?

To step out from the centre of the crowd which is now your cocoon.

To let the vigorous air around take the smoke away,

That has been smudging your distinctiveness.

Are you still there?

Or the heat of the spirit has melted your plastic cloak.

Has the drug not elevated you enough?

Or are you not in your senses to pretend it has.

Step out of the invisible circle,

And find the being on the other side.

No matter how the cocoon will perceive you then,

But you will be you for a while.

You will run, jump and sway at your pace,

For you will be underived for a while.

You would soon see eyes glaring at you,

And you will be crumpled with isolation.

But then you will stand for a change, on your own feet,

Balance on the fingertips,

And rise like you.

The eyes will still glare at you,

But now you can see the semicircle behind the illusional circle.

For what looked complete and secure itself was precarious.

Your mask will soon vanish,

And you will see for a change.

You will cherish what you see, you will learn from what you see,

You will learn how to see.

You would then not care,

What you hear from a million worn-out tongues.

The tongues will soon make an opinion,

That would be debated by the timorous.

You would see from a distance,

And laugh at yourself.

Probably call out for yourself,

And find yourself inside you,

Still smiling.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Kolhapuri Chappal :)


The kolhapuri chappals have been in the trend for quite sometime now but people still don't seem to get over them. You cross any street in Pune, they are all over the place in any color you would wish them to be. They are quite a sight and the shape of it catches my eye every time I see them. I remember going to Kolhapur with my grandparents many years back and buying the authentic chappals with a red thing on them (which is apparently the sign of them being authentic) but hey who cares, today you get them at dirt cheap prices and its fun watching my sisters barraging for them and also deciding where they would wear them (all this in the shop itself). Cheers to the evergreen kolhapuri chappals! :)

Sunday, November 6, 2011

MINDSCAPE :)


I like it messed up,

I like it weathered.

It’s the time that wears the cloak,

Not the earth born.

Drenched in my bubble,

As I take a stroll,

It’s the crumbled and the touched that make me who I am,

It’s the time that wears the cloak,

Not the earth born.

It’s when the earthborn forcibly weather the untouched,

I explode to serenity,

To quarrel within the gullible bubble,

And reach the distant mindscape,

Where the weathered, crumbled and the touched are all my folks.

Folks I cherish and celebrate.

I like it messed up,

I like it weathered.

It’s the time that wears the cloak,

Not the earth born.

-Gaurav Ogale

Thursday, October 27, 2011

My latest short film on Go Green this Diwali :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-gQ1l5nuLU&feature=share

This film highlights the preparations done for Diwali by special children in Pune city. The aim of the film is not stoping people from bursting crackers but to invite them to discover the real meaning of this festival which is much more than just smoke and noise. Happy Green Diwali :)

Directed and filmed by Gaurav Ogale
An initiative by Youth to Yoth Organisation, Pune

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Q&A with Dr. Kiran Seth


Recently I met Dr. Seth when he was in Pune for the NSI (National School Intensive) Programme meetings. It was absolute pleasure to interview him for the DNA. One feels absolutely enlightened by hearing him talk or even watch him play with his granddaughter.
Since we have space constraints in the newspaper here is an edited version of the interview. :)

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Wherever the wind takes the loose earth :)


Wherever the wind takes the loose earth,

I wish to go that way,

For now I have let myself loose to change my way.

For once lead my way and let me follow,

I promise I will lead your way tomorrow.

It was not too late when you made me realize where I was going,

For I was blind when I could see more than I wanted to.

The wind might mislead me,

But I am positive you won’t.

I wish to see the white,

For I am done with gray,

And black seems to be history,

For once lead my way and let me follow,

Because now I have let myself loose to change my way.

I am not afraid of getting lost,

Getting lost would be just an excuse,

To run away from the circumstances.

If things were a little less complicated,

I wouldn’t know what it is to get entangled.

For once I am letting myself loose,

Lead my way and let me follow,

I promise I will lead your way tomorrow.

The bad is yet to come,

But the worse has swallowed me.

To explore a new path,

Unheard and undiscovered.

For the wind is misleading,

I am sure you won’t­.

Let’s go ahead and look back to what is gone,

For once I am letting myself loose,

Lead my way and let me follow.

-Gaurav Ogale

Saturday, September 17, 2011

In the real world :)


In dreams we do so many things
We set aside the rules we know
And fly the world so high
In great and shining rings

If only we could always live in dreams
If only we could make of life
What, in dreams, it seems

But in the real world
We must say our goodbyes
No matter if the love will live
It will never die

In the real world
There are things that we can’t change
And endings come to us
In ways that we can’t rearrange

I love you, and you love me
But sometimes we must let it be
In the real world
In the real world

When we were dreaming heart to heart
I wish that we had stayed right there
For when the dreamers do awake
The dreams do disappear

In the real world
There are things that we can’t change
And endings come to us
In ways that we can’t rearrange

I love you, and you love me
But sometimes we must let it be
In the real world
In the real world


Roy Orbison

Sunday, August 21, 2011

This was my entry for ‘YOUR ENVIRONMENT’ an Art Experiment, an initiative by Mocha Treehuggers in association with The Root, Mumbai.



“Our veins are as intricate as yours,

We are as complicatedly simple as you are.

We promise to protect you,

For we are a part of you!”


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Friday, August 5, 2011

Meet Damodar, the chaiwalla :)


I am finally on my way writing my first story book for children. The story is ready, the illustrations ain't! :( But hey meet my character Damodar, from south India.
I have no clue when I would finish the illustrations but for now this is all what I have.
This is done in the Godana style of art which I recently explored during my Bihar visit which reminds me, I shall upload some stuff i did there very soon. :)

Sunday, July 31, 2011

My encounter with Vijay Tendulkar :)


Memory had just begun then. Today it seems far more than memory and is more like a treasure to me. I was only 6 years old then traveling with my family to a place near Ratnagiri. From what I remember there were cozy red bricked villas amidst tranquility and fresh air. Rain had just made its first appearance and the smell of the wet soil in that part of Maharashtra still tickles my senses.

I was an absolute entertainer then. I would mimic people of all age and character. I could tell series of jokes in one go and I could make people laugh till they would have tears in their eyes. I would tell jokes that wouldn’t suit my age, I did not know the meaning of those jokes but what I knew was, people would laugh anyway. I remember it all. Clear and fresh.

It was a week-long trip and it was a perfect place and time to unwind and relax. Chat and make merry. One morning as we sat for breakfast I saw another family sitting next to us. It was a big group just like ours. I overheard my mother’s conversation with her sister and my family about this person with a white beard sitting in that group. He was someone, that’s what I heard but I was least bothered. I was more bothered about finishing the paratha lying untouched in my plate.

That night after dinner I again encountered the same man with people coming and talking to him and my family talking to him. He was a simple man maybe in his sixties. Not very tall and he often walked around with his glasses. My mother introduced me to him that night and I spoke to him just the way I would talk to my grandfather or someone slightly younger to him.

He was none other than the giant writer and prolific playwright, Vijay Tendulkar. When I first heard his name I thought he was related to Sachin Tendulkar. This could probably be the only assumption someone could make at that age. I started seeing him more often sometimes in the mornings, sometimes post dinner and I began talking to him. The first joke I told him was of the elephant and the ant, one which I was obsessed with at that time. The joke goes this way, once an ant walks up to an elephants ear and whispers something in his ear. He dies after listening to her. Why? Because the ant whispers, “ Mein tumhare bacche ki maa banane wali hoon.” And every time I would tell this joke to Vijayji, he would burst into laughter. He would ask me if I knew the meaning of this joke and I would confidently say No. He was staying in the villa right next to ours and he would often call me post dinner to talk to him and tell him all what I had to offer as far as my jokes were concerned. I have memories of sitting on his lap staring at his white, perfectly trimmed beard. His eyes were deep and he had the most modest smile I had ever seen.

Once while I was talking to him, one of his family members asked me,” Do you know who this uncle is?” I spontaneously nodded my head. “He is a writer and he has a beautiful handwriting,” said one of his nieces. “We will ask him to write a book on your jokes.” Vijayji simply smiled at my confused expressions. I asked him, “What do you do?” he said, “I am a writer.” I asked him yet again, “But what do you do?” He figured out that I was too small to understand what a writer is so he asked me in his soft and expressive voice, “What does your father do?” “He is an engineer!” I said instantly. “Similarly, I am a writer.” So much of modesty would only come from a legend.

I was lucky. Or probably nobody would ever dare to tell such a joke to Mr. Tendulkar or sit on his lap and ask him what he did. I was a child and children are meant to be pure and intuitive. They know no big or small. They are frank and honest. But what gives me goose bumps even when I write this today is the warm side of Vijay Tendulkar who did not spoil the child in me. He exactly knew the way a child thinks and for whatever time I spent with him, he became a child too. He was a celebrity and hugely acclaimed master but in front of me he portrayed himself just like any ordinary man of his age.

Recently when I had a course in script writing and screenplay writing, all these golden memories flew to my mind. I went through some of his work and it left me speechless like the way it left a million others.

Some people are simply legends. Some make it obvious. Some only enjoy the stardom and then there are some like Vijay Tendulkar who redefine the word, Legend.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

FRIDA KAHLO


“I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.”- Frida Kahlo

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Sunday, May 15, 2011

That Bloody Breeze !

That breeze that just passed by me said a lot.

It got me here and it will take me there.

I don’t want to go,

I am not able to decide.

It’s too subtle to convince me,

For I am even more stubborn now.

Will you come along?

It is not a storm,

It’s just a breeze,

A bloody breeze.

It can’t do much, Anyway.

What are you thinking about?

Those stupid little dust particles that are going to make you blink,

And then cry?

Dint I just say, it’s just a bloody breeze.

It can’t do much.

But wait,

A breeze leads to a storm right?

And storms shake you from the core.

But I think I would be fine,

If you just come along.

Shit! I have wasted so much time in thinking whether to go or no,

It’s not here anymore,

Yes that bloody breeze is no more,

Neither is the storm.

And where are you now?

The breeze I called subtle, just took you away.

That bloody breeze,

Did a lot!