Friday, June 21, 2013

The Sleepyhead and the Chatterbox

It's been so long since I picked up a brush and painted on paper. On my recent trip to Nepal, I had a sudden urge to sketch, so the boy bought me a sketchbook. We had only a day in hand and with the wondrous distractions of a new place, I forgot about the sketchbook, 
until now.

For the many nights you try so hard to stay awake to listen to my continuous chatter from religion, politics, to the neighborhood dogs, films and just about everything under the sun, you are truly wonderful.

 Thank you!
 (but also, you are warned, it isn't going to stop.)

(acrylics on paper)

Sunday, June 16, 2013



 My fondest memories of my childhood, are weekend mornings spent with my father. He used to whip out the mic and announce to the household that we were in for a musical morning. This used to get me thoroughly excited, and within minutes I would be rummaging through the tapes at home to find a blank one to record on. The rest of the morning, would be spent singing every song I knew, and all the songs I'd picked up from Dada. We would sing and sing, sometimes just create our own lyrics as we went on, sometimes start with one song and end in another, because the tunes were similar!

 I get my love for singing and music from my Dada.

 Often at nights, just before he goes to bed, he'll ask me to sing him a song, and before you know it, we're six-seven songs down, the Eagles, the Beatles, Denver, Sinatra, what have you, creating harmonies, tapping on wood and extremely happy. 
We have a collection of audio cassettes packed somewhere, safe from the incessant bombarding of digital progress. Teaming with recordings of a most delightful childhood. 
I thank my father for creating these memories with me, and every other thing he has inspired in me and taught me. I am fortunate and grateful to be his daughter, every single day.

Dada, I love you. 
Happy Dada Day!


Thursday, June 13, 2013



As we're growing up, as we mature, we make very impressionable people. Children can sometimes be mean and hurtful, unintentionally, to the other children. Sometimes the effects last a minute, sometimes a while.
 Adults, however, can be mean and hurtful to other adults, 
much to my general dismay, intentionally.
There are various ways of dealing with snubs and rejection, some laugh it off, some turn vengeful, but some, dwell on it and let it swallow them whole. 

Everyone is different and unique in their own way, that can not be said enough, no one is entitled to fitting into someone's checklist of expectations. 
 One person's reject is another's prize,
 so why subject yourself continually to such whims?

There is nothing wrong with who we are,
whether we're tall, short, small, large, needy, greedy;
 the only danger is letting someone else's opinions and expectations define who we are.

For once, let's keep our scathing remarks and judgments away, let's give that sharp tongue a miss, that chance to gossip, that chance to take one for granted, and spend that energy in something a little more befitting to what defines us, as we claim to be, an evolved species.

(A tad preachy, I presume, but meh. :) )