ROBY DAS’ THIRD COLOURED VIEWS


“No inner meanings it reflect”, says Roby Das a self-trained photographer from Kerala whose photographs is now showcasing at Lalita kala Academy here in Chennai. He adhere life in his clicks, not meanings. Frames he carved are anecdotes of land and people. Almost seventy refined photographs are hung in the gallery

A trip from Srinagar to kanyakumari on a solo motorcycle gave him enough beauty and charm for him to click. But being a ‘human being’, he distributed one lakh pamphlets on traffic safety rules in English and in languages of the state he crossed, first time an individual has tried this feat. Hence his name has been included in Limca Book of Records, of the March 2011 edition

“I have to run and click those frames before they vanish from this world” laments Roby Das on the degrading river and paddy fields of the country. He wants to fill his frames with all the curves, length and breadth of nature. He is now fuelling himself for another journey for this. When others travel for a click, his journey gifts him with excellent clicks.

Roby first mounted a solo exhibition of his fifty photographs at AIFAC, Rafi Marg, and New Delhi in the year 2008, followed by one at Ashok hotel, New Delhi. An exhibition of twenty portraits, “faces of India”, held at the constitution club on the occasion of Independence Day, another one “Dawn and Desk” at Trivandrum, Kerala. Next one waiting to be show cased at Bangalore. Roby das hails from a Small hamlet called Sreekandapuram Kerala

His portraits would be in show at Lalita Kala academy from 7th Monday to 13th Sunday of this month. Some of them are all set to sale.

MAY I GET IN?

The estranged, the dirty, the havoc of our noisy mansion, that’s what the folk say about our room. But its finest moments i cherish in my hostel life. When I reply that I am one of the roomies, ‘they’ frown and ‘they’ sometimes look down upon me. Gathering those incidents and late night trifles we enjoyed, I have nothing more in store for ‘them’ than a an advice “go have a blast in room no 12 before you bid farewell to the hostel”

Smoky nights with mixed tunes of Akon and Rafi never lured us in to sleeps. When all others start snoring in to their sleeps, room no12 wakes up. There were distinguished guests who loved to have a sleep here. In fact it’s a known true that it’s a place where “smokers meet”. I have witnessed those puffs which they arithmetically shape and will shoot in different forms of circles and cubes.

The lover’s corner of the room is heavily emotional, names carved on the walls with their loved ones is the best cited examples. Everybody walk in and decorate the wall with names of self or others. Salman Khans and Aishwarya Rais stood mute on the walls. Even the censored images of actors on the wall acknowledge the inner sanctity of the roomies.

Nobody might have slept with an empty belly, I assure. The hacked carrots and tomatoes from the mess kitchen would have really satisfied their bellies. Late night patrolling in to the nook and corners helped learning a lot. We were the lovers of darkness; we were in search of that enlightenment, the reality behind those dark lives!!!

After noon we roomies curl ourselves to the beds and will sleep as dead. When there are no duties to be done, when there are no promises to keep, it’s better to sleep. ..

Fragile hearts they carry, they would sit in front of mobile YouTube and are often seen crying watching heart rending climaxes. How cathartic effective they are, but all these stories are never known to the outside world, never..

When living with these souls, it’s me learning a lot. Whenever anybody enquires behind the doors “may I come in”?, Room no12 has no answer other than “yes you are in”…….

SHORNUR PASSENGER

INGLORIOUS PLEASURES

STAGNANT MIND

AND A PACIFIC SEA BEFORE.

A LEGAL KEY OPENS

THE HAPPINESS,BUT REMOTE

CRY OF A SOLITUDE MOTHER

AND THOSE IRON SOUNDS AND SMELL.

OH I HATE, I HATE ...

SHORNUR PASSENGER