Nausher Nash Banaji Photography

"I was searching for the keys
all these years
but the door was always open."

Your eyes see your own reflection
Ears listen for the sound of your echo
One builds up a wall
The other fortifies it with mortar
And yet the gust of a memory
Scatters the gravel away
Like white memories on dark days
They escape from one fire
But another devours them
Praise and blame are the same
You are satiated, you are starving
You are the alpha, and the omega
Here you are on the blue mountain
Halfway up, halfway down
Stranded and exiled, looking out to sea
Holding onto misplaced gods
And what you might have been – Nausher Nash Banaji

I had many a thing to write
But i had not the words to write them
At the other side of my dreams I waited
Nothing remembered nothing regretted
Arches to ashes, doors to dust
Blood resembles the colour of rust-Nausher Nash Banaji

There rises a great tempest in the sea but I am asleep
From the depths of these waters the future looks bleak
Out beyond the waves theres no turning back
Is it my reflection that shimmers in black
These liquid mirrors don’t freeze the lines on my hand
I trace and erase my face in the sand
Naked now my skin is crawling
I sit in my bones looking out from the hill
Face pressed against the window
The snow is melting and the earth is still – Nausher

carrying my past inside me
its the future i'm returning to
wearing my mask inside me
what am i turning into? - Nausher Nash Banaji

“The only people who see the whole picture,' he murmured, 'are the ones who step out of the frame.”

Years go by and I'm here still waiting
Withering where some snowman was
Mirror mirror where's the crystal palace
But I only can see myself
Skating around the truth who I am
But I know the ice is getting thin
I run off where the drifts get deeper
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
All the white horses are still in bed
I tell you that I'll always want you near
You say that things change my dear
You must learn to stand up for yourself
Cause I can't always be around-

Tori Amos

There is a reason why gods are naked
My renaissance heart shies from the sorrow
Here i am waiting for tomorrow
Masters of art saw gods as beautiful in their own skin
When artists were scientists, technicians, poets they knew this well:
Those gods are naked because
beauty is sacred
that beauty is divine
gods are naked because
all they are clothed in is their belief- Nausher Nash Banaji