Monday, August 15, 2011

The Growing Wall




It was a blisteringly warm Monday morning. India's 64th Independence Day, nevertheless. And I'd found my home facing the back compound wall on which I'd been growing my wall mural but had touched for 5 months. My brother wanted the table blue but Mom didn't know that she could use the acrylic paint I had since Christmas to paint on wood. Plus, he'd already finished varnishing it maroon. So, I picked up the blue painted and painted the shelf instead. Its a startlingly bright blue, but I love the warmth it exudes. I couldn't help myself, but as soon as i'd finished the shelf, i made a bee-line for the back wall. The can of blue acrylic paint in hand, and a rather large brush. The first part of the mission was cover up from the first attempt. The first time i started painting the back wall, I had really tiny brushes so by the time I had finished the centre piece, I was tired but didn't want to stare a copious amounts of blank peach stone walls. So blotched it with my infamous handprinting technique. It was all going to change in a few minutes. And, It did! The texture of the stone wall allowed me to create a something that on parchment would take me forever to master. I could feel the stone speaking to me. I could feel their sighs of relief that they were not just beige or peach but they were going to be worth much more when I was done for the day. The blue really popped in the sunlight and the purplish brown held the pulse together. I could take my own roots finding its ground. I could feel myself reach out to the Earth and be one with Her even if it was just for a lil bit.





Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Wide Eye Rent

Spaces emerge
Vision blurs
Hands converge
Hearings a purr.

Snap, Snap
Clap, Clap
Splash, Splash
That's the trick,
Yet not the pick. 

The Sandman came and went,
Said I didn't pay the bill he sent,
So I lay in bed,
Asleep you must stay, he said
Until you pay up the wide eye rent.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Whispers at Dawn

Whistle
Whisper
Speak
Conversations in discrete
In the morning air,
The trees do seize.

Warming
Wishing
Embracing
The dawn's sun kissed skies bring
In to each voyager's heart
A tingling.

The wild undergrowth giggles,
The canopies sway,
A natural dance they create
In a waking mind's estate.

(Written on 15 July, 2011 on a train to Bangalore.)

The Best Days

The best days
Come all at once.
Wiggle your toes
They'll come alive.
Run and do not hide
All that is inside.
Cry, only in joy
Or the excess of pain.
Or maybe stay,
Just stay in my lane.
Run, run, run
Only to say,
Welcome to my world, hun.
Oh! the tropic thunder
Will not change,
This I know,
I know with age.

(written on July 3, 2011)
(second edit - July 18, 2011)

Friday, April 29, 2011

Windows

Wandering through
Windows of
Wonder.

Passing through
Arches of
Eternal Mystery.

Climbing up
Ladders of
Perspective.

All this movement
Is for more,
Not just a moment.

They appear
One by one.
These gems,
Each with its own quality,
Strung together
With bands of sincerity.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Rumours and Nothing

Patterns emerge
As people unfurl
Whispers that creep,
They Rumours will reap.

Truth be told
Their Instincts echo
Yet are waylaid
And into Nothing they go.



Friday, April 22, 2011

Divine

She
The one
In my dreams
Divine
Radiant

With a mane of sunbeams,
Eyes of starlight,
The voice of a soothsayer
Invokes all that is Me,
Provokes all that should be.

She
A spirit
Unbridled
Runs free.