Chennai Photowalk in Dinamani

Dinamani, the tamil newspaper, from the Express Group carried a report on The Chennai Photowalk.

The Fourth Chennai Photowalk

The story appeared in the Sunday weekly magazine Dinamani Kadhir of February 10, 2008

The Fourth Chennai Photowalk

It so happened that the newspaper carried the report on February 10, 2008, the day on which The Fourth Chennai Photowalk took place.

5 Comments so far

  1. ela (unregistered) on February 22nd, 2008 @ 12:04 am

    ayyyyooooo…enna ithu tamizh kalacharathukku vantha thalai kunivu….lady in a flimsy saree on the front page….and a youth holding it out happily!!
    On a serious note..looks like that you guys reaching places….should get your autographs next time when i visit home…kudos!


  2. ela (unregistered) on February 22nd, 2008 @ 12:17 am

    sorry…should be ‘you guys are reaching places’ are missing…


  3. Parthasarathy (unregistered) on February 22nd, 2008 @ 11:03 am

    Congrats again guys!

    Looks like the newspapers are desperately running out of REAL topics :)


  4. Dilip Muralidaran (unregistered) on February 22nd, 2008 @ 3:00 pm

    Take my word, it was awesome fun walking the 4th chennai photowalk. I’m eagerly looking forward to the 5th and can hardly wait for it.

    For the record, here is my share…

    http://flickr.com/photos/dilipm/tags/photowalk

    Wonderful job guys, keep them coming!


  5. Xman (unregistered) on February 24th, 2008 @ 4:06 am

    Tell me, I’ve got to know.
    Tell me, tell me before I go. …

    Tell me, what are you focused upon?
    Tell me what I’ll know better when you’re gone. ..

    Tell me, do those neon lights blind your eyes?
    Tell me, behind what door your treasure lies. …

    Tell me, should I come back and take another look?
    Tell me the truth, tell me no lies. …

    Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
    Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
    I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
    I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways,
    I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
    I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
    I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,….

    Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
    Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
    I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,
    I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
    I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’,
    I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’,
    I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
    I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
    I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children, ….

    And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
    And what did you hear, my darling young one?
    I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’,
    Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
    Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’,
    Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’,
    Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’,
    Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
    Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley, ….

    Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
    Who did you meet, my darling young one?
    I met a young child beside a dead pony,
    I met a white man who walked a black dog,
    I met a young woman whose body was burning,
    I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
    I met one man who was wounded in love,
    I met another man who was wounded with hatred, …

    Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
    Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
    I’m a-goin’ back out ‘fore the rain starts a-fallin’,
    I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
    Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
    Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
    Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
    Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden,
    Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
    Where black is the color, where none is the number,
    And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
    And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
    Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’,…

    – lyrics Bob Dylan



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