A journey in photographs — VII

Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3  |  Part 4 |  Part 5 |  Part 6 

It has been ages since I have done a photography post, so I guess I should get back to my core strength, which involves posts with fifteen photographs, either self-clicked or nicked from others.

I have tried to provide credit wherever I could remember, but in any case I have missed out on any, please alert me.

Exhibit 1: In case this one seems a rather commonplace foil, do note the manufacturing date. Check the date on which this is published. As you may have realised, this image is beyond a serious sign.

Courtesy: Swati Sircar. 

Exhibit 2: I cannot recall clicking this, but I think this was somewhere in NCR. I hope their expertise stretches beyond donkey security. 

Exhibit 3: My blog readers are mostly Indian, but in case anyone is not aware, the word Brahmand translates to 'Universe'. Go figure.

Courtesy: Malavika Save Patel.

Exhibit 4: Did I click this? Being in Mumbai, it is possible that I did, though once again, I do not have any memory. Something gives me the feeling that the person in charge of marketing here has got his basics wrong.

Exhibit 5: Can anyone figure out what this is all about? Do they ferry only people suffering from acute diarrhoea? Or does it go beyond that? What about emergency solutions to constipation?

Courtesy: Tanmay Mukherjee (Bongpen).

Edit: Souvik has pointed (see comments below) that Shit is a surname in Bankura. 

Exhibit 6: I had clicked this in Sanpada. I accept the fact that they paint shirts, which, as profession, is quite commonplace. What I do not get is how they snitch.

Exhibit 7: Probably on a Maharashtra highway. I know culinary tastes are changing. I know Generation Y has crossed barriers we had never dreamed of. Something, however, tells me that this is not the most popular item on the menu.

Exhibit 8: For every 98459845 vada paav outlets, Mumbai offers one Irani cafe of Parsee restaurants. In case you have no clue what I am talking about, I pity you — for a Parsee or an Irani would look at a Bengali in the eye and not look away.

Despite all that, little ghosts, probably pixies, are not common. This restaurant serves even that!

Exhibit 9: Clicked in Colaba. The person to come up with the most relevant Blockley pun will be mentioned here (it will be a rolling process).

Exhibit 10: Lions Club International, Deshapriya Park, Kolkata. I hope this does not mean what I think. There was, unfortunately, nobody to ask.

Exhibit 11: I know the suspense is killing you. Let me roughly translate this Rajjyotishi Pandit Animesh Shastri advertisement for you (do not blame me, for I did not get a chunk of this myself):

I predict only what is possible for me. If it is not possible, I inform in advance. 

This is Sunny Leone's birth-chart (insert astrological terms). Manglik. Honest. Mercury and Venus are in lucky positions. Hence, the candidate is pretty and a talented actress. (insert astrological terms) have led to candidate's excellent career graph. Sun and Mercury exist in the ninth together (?), which led to the fame of the candidate.

Whatever I do (predict), it has to be successful.

Courtesy: Priyanka Roy Banerjee.

Exhibit 12: Clicked in a Bangalore mall. I have no clue what this means. Does the Kannada (presumably) text translate to gentlemen with heads? Are there headless gentlemen in Bangalore as well?

Exhibit 13: Looks like the usual 1990s advice, does it not? This is what we knew growing up. Nothing wrong with that — except, perhaps, the fact that this is printed on the back of a driving licence.

Courtesy: Anushtup Sett.

Exhibit 13: The Bengali translates to women are repaired here. Not only do both services have a touch of surrealism, they also differ in meaning. I wonder what actually goes in there.

Courtesy: Shakuntala Khan Bhaduri.

Exhibit 14: Is the sign on the auto-rickshaw in front of the one I was in legible? It says SEAT BELT ON MOBILE OFF. But then, auto-rickshaws with seat-belts...

Exhibit 15: This one, clicked at Hypercity, Vashi, deserves special mention.

This tote-bag is the one you see in Kolkata markets, especially on Sunday mornings. Sure enough, I made sure they accompanied me to Navi Mumbai as well.

The Hypercity security is instructed, as is norm with Indian supermarkets, to seal the customers' bags before they enter (both customers and bags).

So they decided to seal this one too.

I did (you have to believe this) try to elaborate on the futility of the exercise...