Reality Check

June has always been a little bit of a conundrum for me. It brings with it the promise of a vacation under sunny skies, but with a pang of fear for leaving everything behind. Just like the washed away sand on the beaches I like to visit.

June marks the middle of another year and I can never tell if I’ve done just enough to be able to relax now and justify it as a good year, or if I’m just getting started.

June has a way of breaking past all the barriers I’ve constructed and ridding me of all disillusions. For June always is what it is, and never what it ought to be.

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Tough times, tougher people

Taking my cue from the Kungfu Panda (honestly, so much more than a kid’s movie) –

You know what scars do, they fade

And even the most terrifying of wounds heal

That’s the nature of life

That’s also the nature of us

So what matters most

Is how we handle the now

And not how the past handles us

That’s how we rise, we grow and we conquer

Even the toughest times

I step out and it’s April

April for me is a month of uncertainty. The weather’s oscillation between hot and cold keeps me up more than half the night. The sun is warm and the breeze is pleasant. The days are equal parts energising and draining. But when I step out and notice how blue the blue of the skies is, how green the green of the leaves is and how brightly coloured is all of nature, I realise the true splendour of April. It blooms and nurtures. It revitalises and nourishes. April is Mama Earth’s way of readying us for a beautiful year ahead.

Siren Song

I’m looking for a new song to hum tonight. Not like a lullaby yet a salve for the soul. A tune for all ages. The words haunting. A treble that trembles and a bass as deep as the woods. A siren’s call. A devil’s snare. A lure. A trap. An unattempted dare.

I’m looking for a new song to hum tonight. Can you fathom its dulcet tones?

Sawaal Jawaab

Yun toh sawaal kayi uthte rehte hain zehen mein

Kabhi khayal ke roop mein

Ek pal saamne doosre pal ojhal

Kabhi nasoor ki tarah

Reh reh ke teeste hain

Kabhi tum saamne aao

Baitho

Aur

Idhar dekho

Toh shayad pehli baar ek jawaab bhi aa jaye is mann mein

Haar Jeet

Haar jao

Kisi din zara

Tum mere dil ki daleelon se

Baaz aao

Kisi din yuhin

Tum apni berukhiyon se

Aazamao

Kabhi toh tum

Humari bhi naseehaton ko

Aur muskurao

Ek baar firse

Dekhke tum in nazdeekiyon ko

Being Woman

I screamed

Silently

I dreamt

Vicariously

I laughed

Consciously

I lived

Apologetically

No more, no more, no more.

Habit

No. Not again. Not this time. No matter what you say. No matter what you promise to do. No, I’m not listening. No, you shouldn’t be here. I’m not it. This time and forever more, I chose myself.

Waiting for the paint to dry

I picked up a paintbrush after what seems like ages, a couple of days ago. It was an unexpected holiday, frankly because I’d forgotten all about it. It was also an extremely lazy day. After sleeping away half of it, i plonked myself down on the couch and put pencil to paper. Now, if you know me a little bit, sketching has never been a problem for me. Painting, however, is an altogether different ball game. I always mess up decent sketches when trying to paint them. This time was no different. It was a mess. But it was my mess. I’d created it from scratch. And I know precisely where I went wrong and at what point things quickly became unsalvageable. Yet, I continued on to finish the painting despite this knowledge. I re-learned something that day, which I learn anew every time I create art.

Art is cathartic. Art is blissful. Art is hard. Art is all kinds of right and wrong. Most of all, art demands patience (if not tears). Sometimes, you just have to wait for the paint to dry to be able to add more beauty, more layers and those crucial, final touches. So here’s to next time, when I’ll know how to wait.

At First Sight

In the cobbled old streets of my hometown

In the relentless rains of London

In the sandy beaches of Goa

In the cold and dreary castles of Scotland

On a hot air balloon in Turkey

On a camel ride in Jaisalmer

On a safari in Corbett

On a trek in the Everest

In the mist of the Niagara

In the midst of NY

I’ve fallen in love a myriad times

For you see

I lose my heart to places, not people

I fall in love with moments, and everything around.