May 25, 2014 Allahabad

I am in Allahabad today. Without doubt Triveni Sangam (popular as Sangam among locals) was the first place I wanted to visit in the city. Having lived in the holy city of Ujjain for 18 years of my life and after visiting several others in Rajasthan, Gujrat, UP and the Southern states, I should have expected what I saw. I didn't probably because in Mirzapur, my current city of residence, the Ganga is considerably clean and still flowing. 
At the Sangam however, the mingling of three rivers was nowhere to be seen. Triveni Sangam is the confluence of three great rivers of India, the Ganga, the Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati. It is said that you can actually see the waters of three different rivers meet here, even though the origin and route of Saraswati (believed to flow underground) as a river does not geographically exist. All I saw though was a small patch of Ganga which dried up even before reaching the point of Sangam. It was a vast stretch of dried sandy river bed under my feet. We took the car quite far into what was supposed to be fresh flowing waters of the most sacred rivers in India. Well, that wasn't all. Some 500 boats thronged the couple of square kilometres of the visible water and over 1500 little canopies of pandits and vendors covered the dried river bed. Every few metres there were heaps of hair sacrificed at the river. Heavily dotting the rest of the space were cups, wrappers and rags. 
The irony, all through the approach road, there were huge signs saying how it is important to keep the river clean. Yet I am not hopeless. Our new prime minister is swearing in tomorrow. One of his main agendas is to give back this mighty river the life it has given to so many. I totally intend to visit Sangam again to see it in its health and beauty, for even an almost dried Ganga has risen in me what it has given countless people - hope.

my letter P - process

Here is my process of creating the P, as promised.

my letter P

So I took inspiration from old illustration of mine, this one, and adapted it to form my initial. What a fun way to use my new Sakura Micron Pens. I am too eager to share this right now. I will post the process in a couple of days. In love with lettering :)

what's new - abstract

With art, you have never done enough. So water colours, digital art, mix media, lettering, calligraphy, writing, photography, sketching, weren't enough for me :D I tried my hand at abstract, and this is what came out of it. I used only highlighters and a black gel pen. What do you figure of this abstract? Of course I had a concept in mind, but it is fascinating to hear what different people draw from the same piece of art. Tell me your thoughts and I'll tell you mine then. (You're allowed to say you didn't like it :) )

April 8, 2014 Indore - summer morning

The summer sun is being relentless. It laughs at me all day long, like a villain of the 80s bollywood film, and then mocks me when it goes down leaving the temperatures so high that a whole sunless night fails to relieve me. Yes I take refuge in air conditioning, but that hardly helps me to forget the boiling atmosphere outside. I miss the cool November breeze. The AC feels more like the chilly December winter, equally uncomfortable. Early this morning I get up and go out in my balcony in an attempt of beating the sun to catch some fresh gentle puffs of air. I see the usual summer blooms moving merrily in the morning air; not all about summer in this part of the country is hot and ugly. But there is an addition to the party today. I take some time to notice that the little branches laden with tiny flowers are moving in a different manner than they do with the wind. Trying to focus with my groggy eyes I finally see a little creature hopping around the bushes. It is so tiny, so beautiful and so cheerful. It keeps hopping from branch to branch sucking nectar out of the brightly coloured flowers. I am lost in its play and start to forget all about the heat when the glowing monster comes up and forces the little one and everybody else into hiding. 

February 18, 2014 Mirzapur

The constantly re-ooccuring rain has made February dull and unpleasant when it should have been bright and beautiful to welcome spring. It had made me shut all the doors and windows of my house as tight as I could and myself within them in an attempt to escape from the unwanted, off-season pitter-patter on the roof and thuds and sloshes on the window panes and the road. It had made me paranoid. Any unexpected sound would bring up an uncomfortable fear of another spell from the thick grey sky. It hadn't rained yesterday though. I gathered up hope for better weather with a rain free morning too. I sat up in my bed, still under my blanket to fight off the chill. As I tried to finish a book I was reading, failing to concentrate over the last few days, I heard a soft rustling through the closed shutters of the window above me.
The sound immediately disheartened me; reluctantly I opened the window, sure of seeing strings of water pouring outside. What I saw amazed me and confused me. I had been in this house for only a week but that was not too little time to not have noticed that gigantic form earlier. What I feared to be the howling of the clouds was actually the rustling of a million leaves on the largest tree I had ever seen. It was so huge, it filled the complete frame of the view through my window.
It wasn't particulary windy, but it seemed that the numerous leaves were playing catch with the breeze, tossing it among themselves, moving, dancing cheering with laughter. I was convinced that the rustling was being echoed within the bounds of that mammoth tree. It was not the usual pulsating sound of wind blowing in and out of a tree. It was a continuous buzz, like in a radio struggling with bad reception. Looking at that tree gave me hope. Hope of a sunny day. It said to me that it could fight off the clouds. It gave me a promise of the spring. It brought the slightest smile to me, a smile inside me, my face I am sure, still held an expression of awe. It gave me the urge to finally leave my bed and get up and about. The great tree and its millions of chattering, cheering children were here to keep me company.

February 5, 2014 Gomor river, Sunderbans

We're on our way to Sajnekhali on a boat. The day started early at 6.30 am. The fog is dense and worse on the water. As our boat slowly makes its way through the river, the fog makes its way through the boat. I can not only see the fog floating but can feel the dampness it is leaving behind. It has left dew drops on our hair, eyelashes, my camera lens and everything else. Just sitting cuddled up in a blanket in this cold melting weather is difficult enough. The lives of locals however goes on without interruption. The morning chores go on as everyday. We sit on our boat looking on as nature fails to shake the will of these men and women on the shores. Survival is hard here but has been made possible by these simple and hard-working village folk.