Dinesh's photos

Instead of driveway!

Splendor of ended day, floating and filling me! Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past! Inflating my throat—you, divine average! You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing. Excerpt: "Song at sunset" ~ Walt Whitman

One would hardly recognize him like this, the high school shop teacher, glasses off, bent over the kitchen sink. Nearby, house dresses and underpants flutter in the window of the Maytag he bought for his mother. Its groaning is the only sound while she washes his hair lifting the trembling water in her hands as she has always done, working foam up from his gray locks like the lightest batter she ever made. Soon enough glasses back on. He will stand before students who mock his dullness; soon, putting up cloths, she'll feel the ache of a body surrendering to age, A little longer let him close his eyes against soap by her apron, let her move her fingers slowly, slowly in this way the two of them have found to be together, this transfiguring moment in the world's old wok of making things clean. "Making things clean" ~ Flannery O'Connor

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wall_Street

Money never sleeps......!

"Money is like a sixth sense - and you can't make use of the other five without it. - ~ William Somerset Maugham

This is the way that autumn came to the trees: it stripped them down to the skin, left their ebony bodies naked. It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves, scattered them over the ground. Anyone could trample them out of shape undisturbed by a single moan of protest .The birds that herald dreams were exiled from their song, each voice torn out of its throat. They dropped into the dust even before the hunter strung his bow. Oh, God of May have mercy . Bless these withered bodies with the passion of your resurrection; make their dead veins flow with blood again. Give some tree the gift of green again. Let one bird sing. by Faiz Ahmed Faiz translated by Naomi Lazard

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagore