To be alive….

She leaned onto a log, covered in moss, the smell of those fresh dew drops on these, one can’t resist those. She didn’t mind the dirt on her dress nor did she care for the tiny bugs blissfully exploring her arms. This was a daily routine. The sun was just out, there was enough light to see the raw beauty of this world. The golden colour slowly covered the vastness of the land like a blanket. Suddenly, the perspective changed. The darkness ,the moonlit sky and stars and the silhouette made by them reminded her of the picture of the Universe. She thought of the times she had missed this beautiful view. She never realized what it was that this view could give her. It was not the picturesque scenery that poets talked about in their poems, it was not that, there was so much more. It was her life. It was what it had to offer, it was what she refused to see, it was all the positivity that the artificiality hid away. There is so much more. When will we all see this?

She slowly pushed away from the log, wrapped her arms around herself, and breathed. It felt good to be alive. She stared right into the sun. While the wind took her hair on a beautiful yet wild date. She attributed her life to this phenomenon. It felt good, yet, it was taxing. The knots that the wind made with her hair, the water that it drained,the long hours that would follow in carefully bringing it back to normal. She thought, to experience this beautiful feeling I need to accept everything that comes with it, the cool breeze that the wind brought, the sweet caresses that it gifted her, the knots and the dehydration. It is a package. When will we understand it?

Why do I read a book?

Why do I read? Why do most of us read? We read to escape! Escape from what? Reality? I doubt it! Sometimes reading will push us more into the depths of reality. Some books are so powerful that it pushes us deep into the reality that we have drowned in the deepest corner of our minds.

I read not for any of this! I used to read to escape or to excite my imagination. Then there came a point where everything I read turned against me. It was questioning me. It was telling me that there is so much to be done! What are you doing with your life? And so on….

Then came a point and I am currently at this stage where I read multiple books. Each book resonating different energy. All of them at the end of the day inspires the writer in me, the creative mind of mine. It is pure bliss. These books are nurturing me.

Why do you read?

Kiki’s Delivery Service and what it did to my imagination!!

I watched this movie a month or two ago. I am thirty years old. Let me just say that I have always been a fan of anime and cartoons. That said, I had lost touch, I had stopped watching it. Adulting happened and somehow forgot what it felt like.

Corona became a blessing in disguise for me. I took the opportunity to watch anime cartoons again. I came across this one and it changed me. The beautiful landscapes, the garden, the city, train and what not. It is a visual treat!!! This is a small attempt to recreate the garden . I have used watercolor.

The garden with its hues of green, yellow and pink. It soothes both the eyes and the mind. It has the effect of therapy. Instant relief. Transportation into another world we all wish existed.

Hope you like it!!!

I have always felt that the world is so much more than what we see…. it has so many intricacies. The morning sun to the night’s moon is a wonder. The tenacity of the human mind. The greed, lust, love…

Then there are animals. Why do we call them so? And why is that word associated with negative connotation sometimes. “He/she is an animal! Violent!” Who decided these things? If it were upto me I’d say the opposite. Animals are close to nature hence they are free and innocent. We have moved so far away from nature in the name of civilization. And what did we gain? Nothing!! We have reached the end of it. Shut inside our homes like the animals that we “own”.

Don’t get me wrong. This is not a negative post. This is just a reminder. The farther we move away from nature, the further we move away from the wonders of this world.

There is hope….

What it means? So many definitions.

I woke up today wondering about the importance of being humble.

There was this small kid, probably ten or eleven years old. She never thought of why she rode in a cycle, holding onto her grandfather to watch Kathakali, when the rest of them took fancy cars. She never for a moment thought of using a sharpener to sharpen her pencils instead of a blade. She wore pattupavadas, oiled her hair daily and walked about having fun, minding her own business. She used to cry when she lost her ruler, the new long one. She never realized that there is a difference between recycled papers and the non recycled ones as long as she could write on them with her new pencils.

I realized that it is not something that is taught, it is something that you learn, you watch and learn without realizing it! And that is just beautiful.

Gyre

It is sort of like a whirlpool. A whirlpool of emotions, immersed in colours, slowly gyring, giving way to grey.

Alone, yet not alone. Solitude is a luxury. As the gyre is rotating, the waves bashing against the rocks is soothing somehow. There is chaos and serenity at the same time. Once you enter the whirlpool, you no longer hear the sound of the ocean. You hear the gushing, violent sound of the raging water, pulling you down into the depths. There is a small door, a door that takes you to the reality that you have been avoiding for so long. It is not yours. It is something else, something indescribable. It is excruciating, somehow satisfying.

It is good to remember.

We are all hounded by the gyre.

Someday we will willingly let it pull us down. Down, then will not sound so bad.

Into the depths of the long lost soul…

Hope…

Seems to be a long forgotten word, hiding amongst the pages of a self help book, waiting to be rediscovered….

Shadows….

Now, they are popular. Emerging from the dark valleys of an abandoned street.

Balance….

We know that she exists, but we are too reluctant to extend our hands from the warmth of our coats and grab it with utmost conviction.

Time…

She doesn’t promise anything to the person who fails to look within.

Doorway to another world? Are they?

It is very rare that I find books which transport me to the world that the author creates for me. I mean, it is easy to claim that books are a doorway to another world and all of that. I rarely experience it. I do rely on books to help overcome troubled thoughts and moments.

As I sit here today, reading a novel by a Northeast writer , I have come to realize that the books that are set in mountains and valleys have a mystical feeling, contributing to the creator in me, inspiring me to write, think, paint and what not. The emotions, relationships and bonds are somehow exaggerated by the nature that engulfs them. And trust me, this is a good kind of exaggeration.

What captures your mind and gets your creative juices running?