I remember chiffon in pastel shades with roses in Lavender and Mauve…strappy footwear to match, and perfume… exotic and luxurious… impeccable, coiffeured hair and a regal carriage. That was my mom going for an officers party with my dad. An effortless head-turner who wore her charm like a cape of elegance.
When age demanded that she give up her pencil heels for Doctor Scholls slippers, she fought tooth and nail with her doctor, it didn’t help that she had an Orthopedic surgeon for a son😊.
These were her vintage purses. She put a dainty, fragrant, lace handkerchief in it, maybe be a lipstick, but I cannot be sure.
On a recent visit to her, I became the proud, albeit unworthy recipient of her gorgeous purses. I have neither the charm nor her panache to carry them.
She told me to keep them safely for the one person who could do justice to them… And then I got a surprise call from my daughter asking me if ‘Naani’ had left something precious of hers with me, and I couldn’t help thinking, Yes! Her genes! 😁
All I wanted
Was to go to school
Meet some friends
Play the fool
Sing a birthday song
Laugh and share
Happiness and chocolates
Without a care…
But it went horribly wrong
And my entire family..
The tears might
In a lifetime dry
But all they will ever ask
Why did I fall
Before my time
Was being a child
My only crime…?
#Why? #keepourchildrensafe #PrayerforPradhyumn
Little Buda peeped from behind a broken wall, eyes alight with curiosity. When I looked up, he retreated behind the wall. After a few minutes of this game, I beckoned him to me. I was sitting on the roof of our homestay in Sikkim and sketching the vast and endless mountains visible from my perch. As he approached me I asked him if he would like to draw something. He nodded shyly and became excited when I gave him a sketch pad and pen. We both sat quietly, each lost in a private world, drawing and colouring. Later, he was called down by someone, who I presumed might be his mother.
It was as we were leaving, that I found out that Buda’s mother had abandoned him and he was being brought up by the entire village. They made sure that he ate, went to school and had a home to come back to…
In our parting photograph with the family that we were staying with, Buda was on the hip of our hostess, smiling into the camera with glee 😊
Any woman can have a mother’s heart, you don’t have to be one to embrace another with that kind of love…
There is an owl that I see on my way to the studio. It sits patiently on one of the branches of a Gulmohar tree. It is plump and quiet and has a Stillness to it that is enchanting. Why is it awake during the day… When will it go to sleep… Are some of the questions that cross my mind as I pass it.
I would like to believe that it waits for me just as much as I look forward to catching a glimpse of it. I take the sharp left turn that leads me to the tree that it has chosen for a home and instinctively I look up.
I imagine it as a family man, taking a break from his brood to enjoy the noise of daytime which for him is night. And so I drive on, taking a picture of him in my mind, I add elements that I think are important in order for him to have a fun life… And I recreate that in the quiet of my studio and thank that little bird for inspiring me and bringing joy to my world… 🌼☺️
Till I had a dog, I didn’t know what I was missing. Now, I have full conversations with him and I believe pets are great listeners!
This sketch is a recognition of that beautiful bond that I share with my pug, Bob 😊
I have loved owls since I was lirtle. Their massive eyes and adorable shape makes me come back to them time and again, in different mediums. I like to think of them as family creatures that take care of their little ones with diligence and deep love 😊
Presence in the Absence
The absence is complete..yet the presence is palpable. It is there in the form of strewn shoes…an unmade bed…perfume lingering in the air, like a guest reluctant to leave..even the comb wants to hang on to a glossy long hair as a keepsake.
Her presence is everywhere..a silent witness, it winks from countertops and jumbled clothes, it gives away every personality trait of my teen aged daughter..sometimes reluctantly and sometimes with glee..sure in the knowledge that it will get a reaction out of me. I am reluctant to start cleaning and clearing..
enjoying her presence in her absence. I see examples of this girl-woman in little things that looming adulthood has not taken away yet..three magenta colored monkeys keeping Gandhijis lessons alive…a fluffy stuffed toy, a keepsake from babyhood still finds pride of place. Alongside it are photographs capturing the metamorphoses of a baby into a young woman.
She is faraway now… gone for higher studies..that sounds ironical too because she always makes me feel that she knows everything..it’s in the folding of clothes and clearing of clutter that I feel oddly close to my child. This child, who loves paneer, poetry and her point of view all with equal fervour.
Though she is not in my field of vision she’s still everywhere..sitting squarely in my heart and in her home..With every move of my hands that remove the creases from her clothes I say a prayer..be happy..be safe…be yourself…