Postcard to Friends

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My friends can’t believe I took that picture. No one believes I stepped out early morning with my camera. I’m quite infamous for my late nights. My perfect day starts around noon and this is officially my first early morning outdoor picture and later I remembered a distant friend once asked me and I told him, I take pictures and he smirked “No way, photographers wake up in the wee hours and head places…”
Ignorant fool, I thought of him then and believe me, he is an idiot. He made a mean remark, I’m sure you’ll agree. 23 days gone since I walked on the beach, that quaint, peerless morning….let me say, true friends look beyond what time you wake up.

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Blackjack ‘ed’

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“I know why he’s taking our picture…”
“Why?”
“He’ll put our picture in his phone which has a thing called facebook”
“What’s that?”
“I see grown-ups staring at facebook all the time. They keep going down and then they keep going up”
“Really?….ask him”
“You’ll put our picture on facebook..isn’t it?”
Me : “No”
“Don’t lie”
Me : “Why should I lie?”
“What will you do with the picture then?”
Me : “……………………………Nothing”
“Show us facebook on your phone”
Me : “I’ll put your picture on my blog”
“What’s that?”
Me : “A blog….”
“You’re lying. He’s lying”
Me : “……………………………………”
“Facebook, right?”
Me : “Right…like facebook”

“See…I told you guys”

A Good Day

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Though I wonder if she ever does think of the moment the way I do, that day, sunny afternoon, I photographed her and she let me.
I skipped my rule #1 : Be discreet, shoot and walk away rather I chose to play fair which is rare, my rule #2 : Ask when you darn sure they won’t refuse.
She utterly refused though not for long perhaps she anticipated I’ll just stand there sulking all day and trust me I’m quite good at it..

The Clown

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When I was a lad
There came a circus in town
Acrobats and a juggler
Midgets and a magician
Lions and a clown…
I went with my folks
Oh, what a show
I wanted more

With friends, I sneaked in
On a packed Friday night
This time the clown
Picked me
Funny tricks he played on me
Poked fun of me
He performed each show
A routine of his
I knew the drill

Finally, the clown turns the prank on himself
His final act
He howled and cried
Beat his chest
Audience cracked up
The roars of laughter faraway
And the clown in tears
Next to me…

Lights fade out
End of show.
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The Printer

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This man works at a printing press at the other end of the doorway for over 41 years. He scrupulously places single sheet of blank paper one after another on the 62-year-old machine, that can still print 1000 copies in an hour, the owner said proudly but this man does 400. Time has worn him out and the owner is cool about it.
“Why not change?” I asked
“Why change family tradition? Definitely not for money”

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Letterpress printing.

Letterpress printing is a technique of relief printing using a printing press. A worker composes and locks movable type into the bed of a press, inks it, and presses paper against it to transfer the ink from the type.
In practice, letterpress also includes other forms of relief printing with printing presses, such as wood engravings, photo-etched zinc “cuts” (plates), and linoleum blocks, which can be used alongside metal type in a single operation, as well as stereotypes and electrotypes of type and blocks.[1] With certain letterpress units it is also possible to join movable type with slugs cast using hot metal typesetting.
Letterpress printing was the normal form of printing text from its invention by Johannes Gutenberg in the mid-15th century until the 19th century and remained in wide use for books and other uses until the second half of the 20th century. Letterpress printing remained the primary way to print and distribute information until the twentieth century, when offset printing was developed, which largely supplanted its role in printing books and newspapers. More recently, letterpress printing has seen a revival in an artisanal form. (Source : Wikipedia)

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No. 5

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fly in my room
whirring buzzing…
my unsteady eyes
chasing the
Hungarian dance

night was sombre
whisky bought me sleep
and the sly fly was smooth
on me
like bourbon