Nausher Nash Banaji Photography

Darkling you walk into the light
Staring blind wrong from right
Sweating palms clutch a shadow's hand
You only survive because you don't understand
The wind carries voices but there's nobody there
The bush is burning but the mountain is bare
The light of the body is in the eye
It's where neither rust corrupts nor moths fly
It's where the treasure is
It's where the heart is
It's where each seeks life in his own abyss
Where you’re crucified by the other’s silence
Waiting on night to deliver your bliss
Your soul’s at peace in a world of violence
The divine divided by divinity
Trapped in the madding throng
Walled in the other half of your insanity
Your dreams are all real your reality all wrong – Nausher Nash Banaji

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

"Papers in the roadside tell of suffering and greed
Feared today, forgot tomorrow
Here besides the news of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk
And I don't
But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world,
Somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way, to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive."

"Most people have a rope that ties them to someone, and that rope can be short or it can be long. (Be long. Belong. Get it?) You don't know how long, though. It's not your choice."

Nick Hornby

“The night is my nudity
the stars are my teeth
I throw myself among the dead
dressed in white sunlight..."
~ George Bataille from The Impossible

The light of the body is in the eye
Where neither rust corrupts nor moths fly
You seek love lost in your own abyss
Crucified by the other’s silence
Waiting on night to deliver your bliss
Your soul’s at peace in a world of violence
The divine divided by divinity
Trapped in the madding throng
Walled in the other half of your insanity
Your dreams are all real your reality all wrong – Nausher Nash Banaji

twisting like a flame in a slow dance
you follow the flare of the shadowplay
dreamers dance at the end of the hall
searching the skies for something sacred
fingers bleeding climbing up the wall-
Nausher Banaji