SOLITARY

PHOTOGRAPHY/DTP/EXPERIMENTAL PHOTOGRAPHY

Solitary2

SOLITARY

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

SOLITARY

PHOTOGRAPHY/DTP/EXPERIMENTAL PHOTOGRAPHY

Soliatry

Soliatry - 1

Soliatry - 2

Soliatry - 3

Soliatry - 4

Solitary Collage

SOLITARY

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

FULL MOON AND I..

Standing atop the infinite,
Winning over the dark,
After yet another finality,
The Full Moon spoke to me,
That it was with me, again,
In my finite league,
Proposing the conversation,
It sought every such night..
It’s not that I don’t say yes,
I do bathe in the shining Moon,
Dancing on its song,
And I did move, to respond,
Like I have been doing,
To let my words play in accord,
In the brightest hours of night,
To share the thoughts,
On mutual joy of walking alone,
And living severally alone,
But, like always,
The night got over,
Before the words, lost in joy,
Could speak to each other..
Full Moon and I, in a league,
Are the pulse of fortnights,
For tales of our mutual joys,
Where we share our silence,
Waiting for the day,
When words would flow,
From one real of joy,
To another, weaving,
Some more togetherness..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey –https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

ENJOY WHEN YOU DON’T GET MUCH ATTENTION..

“Enjoy when you don’t get much attention..
..but enjoy your own company..
..It is hard earned
..and the phase is a good hunting ground..
..for some hard earned wisdom.”


Enjoy When You Don't Get Much Attention


ENJOY WHEN YOU DON’T GET MUCH ATTENTION..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/


WHEN THE EMPTINESS OPENS UP

PHOTOGRAPHY

A faint breeze is cutting through the woods, making the leaves of the trees around me tremble. That anonymous rustling forms ripples on the folds of my mind. I rest a hand against a tree trunk and close my eyes. Those ripples seem to be a sign, a signal of some sort, but it’s like a foreign language I can’t decipher. I
give up, open my eyes, and gaze out again at this brand-new world before me. Standing there halfway down the slope, staring down at this place with two soldiers, I feel those ripples shifting inside me. These signs reconfigure themselves, the metaphors transform, and I’m drifting away, away from myself. I’m
a butterfly, flitting along the edges of creation. Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard. 
I try to calm my ragged breathing. My heart still isn’t back in one piece, but at least I’m not afraid.”
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 Emptiness' Illumination-1-W

The Illuminating Emptiness-W

Emptiness' Illumination-3-W

WHEN THE EMPTINESS OPENS UP 

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

LIFE IS RECITING THAT POEM AGAIN..

Life is reciting
The poem
That had its thought
Come to life
Some years ago
When your word
Had suddenly given it
The expression
It needed to begin
And I started
Writing what I loved
Life is here now
Journeyed through
All these years
To distant thoughts
To unseen abodes
Where words
Tried desperately
To weave again
What was then
When it all began
Life is reciting
That poem
That had a soul
To become one
With my soul
Beautifully weaved
By my words
Some years ago
Words again
Want to melt
To get along
Beyond identities
As if it is about
Living again
The yesterday..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

MISSING IN A DAY

Missing in a day

Some words

Waiting to be spoken

Betrayed

By their meanings

That illusive peace

Abducted

Some years ago

Deceived

By its silence

That presence

From that year

In a melted oblivion  

Concealed

By its shallowness

Missing in a day

That life

Of several lives

Living severally alone

By its address

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE NIGHT HAS COME AFTER A LONG TIME

The night has come after a long time
To sit again, by the side of my head

Looks like the talk will be mutual
Something, the years have not seen

There is much to say and hear
Wish the hour now lasts longer

Such a night has come after ages
That didn’t betray its commitment

Like the other nights, even today,
Yes, there is no pillow of sleep

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MY MADNESS IS FOR ME

My madness is for me
Its joy that makes me we
My freedom is not split
My soul has got its spirit

My loneliness is fulfilling
Its friendship is refreshing
What if they have jeers to say
My peace has me on this way

They don’t care to know me
It’s liberating and so it is to be
I am alone and I am with me
It’s the day and I am finally free

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THE DROPS ARE BLACK OR THE NIGHT IS DARK?

The rain has brought the darker night again,

My thoughts are trying to get through it,

To see, if the drops are coloured black, or,

To see through, if the night itself is darker,

With its sable shadowing the lines visible,

Answers not responding, mind is restless,

And no call from the night’s stillness either,

Strange this night is, the heart wants to fear it,

But this silence forces some more questions,

Adding some more black to the night’s shades,

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