Untitled and currently known as scan002.jpg on my laptop

LIghtheadedness. Too much dancing. Too much happiness. Too much tiredness. Nostalgia. Looking through old work. Thus was born a new blog post.

Palash

Spring is on its way. There is a vermillion amidst the green. Palash-The flame of the forest.

Dancing Lines

Line art from a long time ago. Shall put up more recent work as soon as I take pictures.

Rikshaw-songs

In the midst of the crowded hour, I sit in my rickshaw. A peddler with magazines in the most vibrant shades, a vendor of peanuts and other munchies, a distressed cop finding semblance in the mayhem that is his life, the beggar offering blessings from above in exchange for a little to feed his hunger, are all a blur. I am wound in my own thoughts, my own misery, and my own joy. The rickshaw-wala sprays his paan onto the road, splaying the grey with colour. There’s a frantic honk from behind. I hear the rickshaw-songs, though only faintly. It’s the music in my head that is clear to me. The background score is the ticking of the meter, the cry of the peddler, the whistle for order, the honk of the rickshaw, the jingle of the beggar’s coins. In this crowd, amidst the rickshaw-songs, I find the air coming to a still.

MelAnCholY

My journey with Shakespeare's Macbeth was one that left me wondering. Editing the school play based on the very same was an enriching experience. I was thinking themes, delving into plots, digging for deeper meanings to every pun, every metaphor, every verse, every word. The essence of the witches and the personality of Lady Macbeth, the fear,anxiety and confusion that makes Macbeth lose his mind. Melancholy. That, to me is the theme of the play.I found that I had to illustrate this melancholy in my art. Melancholy.