Friday, March 27, 2020

Bertrand Russell

Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) was an eminent British philosopher and is considered one of the greatest philosophers of the 20th century. He was both a brilliant mathematician, a logician and a moralist. He popularized the philosophy and was a left-wing supporter. Russell was also a prolific writer. Medium- HB and 3B pencils

Wednesday, March 25, 2020


'The Ocean has its silent caves,
Deep, quiet, and alone;
Though there be fury on the waves,
Beneath them there is none' 

--The Sea is History by Derek Walcott

This work is done in Camlin Soft Pastel on black Brustro A5 Pastel Matt Paper.

Monday, March 23, 2020

A Pastel Portrait

This is a soft pastel portrait of my friend.

This work is done in Derwent pastel Pencils on toned Brustro A5 pastel Matt paper.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Phantom- A Short Story

“There you are, standing here again!” I screamed at his face with eyes skewed in disgust but he stood there nonchalantly like nothing affected him, like he was a fossil carved in stone- rigid and unalterable.

“You know how I feel. Sometimes these nights make me so miserable that I get drunk on my sadness but you never bother. Even when I ask you just stand there watching my misery with a detachment that makes me feel so helpless,” I screamed at him but no words escaped his pursed lips. A silence spread in the room like fog and the cool breeze outside swaying the branches and making them dance could do nothing to calm me down. I blankly watched my silk curtains rustle like dried leaves. I was burning alone in my room after a long tiring day at office. He always said I loved setting myself on fire and that I would spill the milk just to have something to cry upon. I detested him for that but he would be adamant, coldly silently detachedly adamant.

“Remember how that hag would humiliate me?” I screamed at him.
“I do. She would call you stupid, said you were no good and that any investment on your education was a sheer waste of your father’s money,” he said.
“And when she slapped me twice, overlooked me at the school’s annual function and made me stand outside the class?” I said with a sadness seeping inside me like dampness in a wall.
“Yes, and she jeered at you and even made the class students do so. In that annual function, she pushed her own son onto the stage and got your performance cancelled,” he said.
“See, how much humiliation I had to suffer. I would not brood if there were any fault of mine but there was none. I was just a child of twelve and I needed support and love from my class teacher but no, that witch would hate me with all her heart. Oh, it makes me so depressed,” I muttered with my shoulders dropping down like a huge penalty was imposed upon me. He remained quiet.

“Remember, when at my cousin’s wedding that uncle would touch me lasciviously with innuendos? Ah! Till date I feel a surge of hatred towards him,” I cried cutting the thin veil of silence before it could grow thicker.
“Yes. I remember everything, nothing ever escapes my record. That uncle would stare at you with hungry feral eyes. He even gave you a long unwanted hug,” he said.
“I could have done something different. Couldn’t I?” I asked him, trying to flutter off my tears ready to rush out like a rowdy unchained pet.
“Weren’t you only fifteen? You did what you thought was best by your experience that time. You avoided him like plague and told your father about him. He sensed all that and didn’t come near you. May be you scared the hell out of him,” he said but without a tinge of sympathy in his tone.
“I did but that incident still makes my blood boil. He shouldn’t have done that,” I thumped the table with my fist.
“But he did and it is a fact,” he replied.
“I do not like recalling that wedding at all,” I grieved.
“Then why do you ask me to repeat it?” he asked.
“Because you are here right in front of me with all the indelible records and memories,” I cried. 

“Remember, when my first love left me, how badly I wanted to hang myself? I felt as if it was the end of the world. I never felt so cheap, so disgusted in my life. I loved him truly but he just wanted to have fun,” tears rolled down my cheeks.
“He did play with you, bandied your name around and made acerbic remarks about your looks but you moved on after he ditched you,” He said.
“I could have moved on earlier too but I was being an emotional fool. The bastard took me for a ride,” I lamented.
“You could but you did what a girl in her early twenties could have done at that point. You showed grace and accepted that he didn’t desire you. A quiet break up had followed,” he said
“Whenever I recall time spent with him I feel like I should have taken a befitting revenge. He dumped me like I was a mere piece of junk. I still want him to suffer; I know him, he must be dating another girl and I wish she does what he did to me” I let a curse out under my breath.
“You always ask me about him and I always repeat how he ditched you in love and that you were just a step away from an emotional breakdown,” He said.
“So what if you have to repeat? Let me figure out how I could have taught him a lesson,” I snapped back.
“But what is the logic? Even if you do figure out, you don’t know where the hell he is now and with whom. You find a pleasure in revisiting your green wound that you do not wish to stitch and I bear the blame of the pain you inflict upon yourself,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” I rolled my eyes and lay down on my cozy bed. I was alone with him for I liked to summon him in privacy, usually late post suppers so that no one could disturb our conversations.
“Let me be honest, I feel like leaving you forever. Understand that I need to rest in my depth and your life is full of beautiful days that are yet to come. However, I am tied to you and cannot escape. I have to come whenever you summon me,” he said with a mild irritation.
“Why are you so annoyed?” I was curious.
“Because I am simply fed up of repeating the same incidences over and over like a deranged parrot. These are painted upon the canvas of your life and will never change. If you find them ugly, change your angle of looking at your canvas. Only you can do that,” he said.
“But I have much blank canvas left,” I argued.
“Then why do you keep brooding about the small patch you find a bit off color. Haven’t I told you, it can never be repainted or modified in any way? You did your best but now after years you find a million new faults,” he said. For some moments, we sat in an intense silence pregnant with bitterness.

“My first boss stole my ideas. Remember?” I asked with a heavy heart like I was chanting a requiem.
“He did. Later he presented them by his name and won a promotion, kicking you out of his way,” he said.
“I could have told the management,” I stated firmly.
“But you didn’t. You chose the most feasible option; you could not afford to cross him at that precarious time,” he said.
“I mean things could have been much different. What do you feel?”
“I feel like banging my head against a wall. Sadly, I have no head to bang in the first place. What am I after all? I am just a spirit, a phantom of your past. I hold all the secrets in my bosom, like young lovers in theirs. All the past is stacked within me and I lie as dormant and still as skeletons inside graves till you beckon me and I appear with all that which has been there but now it isn’t, and will never be. You explore me every night to find something new; you feel the same pain, go through the same agony many times for pain is the drug you have got addicted to. You indeed are drunk on it. Your blessings outnumber your hurts yet you ask me to retell all those incidences every night and then rue yourself to sleep,” he said stoically.

“Just shut up!” I yelled. You make my life pathetic. I cry every time I recall all that which I never wanted; all that which could have been so different. All this past of mine is like that aftertaste of a vomit- disgusting but hard to define. I could have handled things differently. If only I were a bit wise, if only I were a little cunning, if only I were more outspoken. Oh! Phantom of my past, tell me why do you come and make my life so wretched?” I wailed but he stood unperturbedly.

“Tell me, who summons me every night?” he asked looking at me in the eye.
I found myself grappling for an answer.


Thursday, March 12, 2020

Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami is a famous writer from Japan
This work is done in Derwent soft pastel pencils on a Brustro toned A5 paper.

Thursday, January 30, 2020

It's World Class!

A weird thought popped up last evening while I was doing something entirely different. Now, let us suppose that this whole world is a classroom and all the countries or continents are students. This is what I think they all are likely to be.

USA- The super rich ones who commute to college in their own expensive vehicles, are obese from overeating junk and nonstop partying and do not acknowledge anyone else in the class. Not very good in studies because they are busy with all sorts of relationship troubles so they have tutors who help them mug up everything. Usually, they have dysfunctional families or their parents are uber cool too, just like them.

Jesus, I need coke and a burger, a Limo and of course a shrink!

Canada- These are upper middle and very friendly. They accept everyone’s friendship, invite everyone to their parties and apologize for mistakes made in the past.

Satsriakal world! Please come in!

UK- Are shrewd and give much attention to detail but are also reserved and discriminating for they focus only on their own target. Have a tough time mixing well with others for they consider the rest of the class to be a petri dish of germs. They usually wear formal or semi formal clothes of more or less the same dull colors to college. They also take up any seat they fancy and refuse to budge.

We really apologize and request you to pardon our impertinence and not consider it offensive so to speak but have we been introduced yet by any chance?

China- These are the shrewdest of all. These students are tech experts and excel in math and computers. They are also very secretive about their motives and are always smiling to keep you confused. They have voracious appetites and can eat anything when they are hungry.

I know what you did last summer!

Africa- These have arrived to college from rural areas and their forefathers were poor, exploited and worked very hard. They are honest, rugged and have certain rawness in them. They have a fire to move ahead in life.

World is a jungle, be a lion not a wildebeest

France- These are the most stylish of the lot. They have rich but busy parents. These students often suffer from depression or anxiety issues. They have a great taste in food and wear awesome perfumes to college but dislike mixing too much and can be painfully curt at times. Also, they eat only well presented food with complicated names and secretly love it when people pronounce those wrong!

Mercy, monsieur but you look stupid in the dress you copied from us

Italy- These are the ones who keep the whole class entertained. Boys flirt usually and girls giggle for no reason. They are not very serious about their future. Also, they come from old reputed families and love to narrate the stories of their very powerful forefathers that no one is interested in anymore yet they can’t stop.

Wanna go for a pizza date? We will have some pasta too!

Russia- These are those tough guys who occupy the back benches. They are laconic, sturdy and are formidable foes but do not disturb anyone purposelessly. Some people accuse them of selling drugs but no one has courage to ask them directly. They are great chess players and their silent gaze can be terrifying.

No reason to stay is a good reason to go

Saudi Arab- These students usually bribe teachers with all the fine things to buy good grades, are very businesslike and brutal. They come from very rich but closed and conservative patriarchal business backgrounds. They love to flaunt their cars and pets.

We will buy you

Germany- Toppers who are amazing in math and science. They are studious, hardworking and hate small talk. These have a dark sense of humor and to see them giggling is a rare sight. Also, these are great with machinery and can fix any issue in that area. They are extremely philosophical as well.

Kant you mind your own business?

Pakistan- These are the shabby ones whose body odor repels others, are rowdy, hypocrites and often end up embarrassing themselves. They often pass nasty comments on women and get insulted yet are unbothered by the humiliation. They always borrow stuff from other students but hardly ever return the items. These are the most hated students in the whole class.

Can you lend us some money??

Bhutan- These are helpful, always smiling and studious students who avoid fight at all costs. They often recite peace and brotherhood prayers yet do not mix much with others in the class. They love to sit alone in gardens and are happiest when left to themselves.

Eat, Love , Pray

India- These are the most talkative ones who love to mix up, invite others over lunch and offer lovely hospitality. These students are skilled in music and arts. Usually, there is much potential but they make silly mistakes because of wrong priorities and waste much of their time on fruitless activities. Most of their class projects are copied from other students. They love street food, movies and cricket and can be very emotionally volatile for they form attachments way too fast. They are the agony aunts of the class and love to dole out unwanted free advice.

Tell us about yourself, your parents, family, pets, neighbors and everything about others that you know!

Japan- These have everything, from stationery to notebooks in small sizes. They study a lot for long hours, never miss a single class hence are often sleep deprived.

We have a miniature version of that object you have but it can be seen only under a microscope

Antarctica- These are the most aloof ones, are unfriendly and often absent. Teachers visit their places to find out what’s wrong with them.

Who the hell are you?


Friday, January 10, 2020

Did You Say Liberty?

Did you say liberty or was it something else?
Was it for a cause, young blood like water spread?

As wilted roses, pride of beauties lay under the feet
And wails of distressed mothers till heavens did reach

Marches of freedom to new dawns paved the way
But tyranny crept in though old evils you did slay

In joy, savagery danced once the aims were over
Liberty’s flag lost color to coercion’s exposure

With both the hands you snatched the crown
Too hastily, in love of their bleeding throne

Once shining arrows, meant to break all clamps
Now lie affronted like boats left rusting on land

Freedom in the morning was control by the noon
Vile were evenings, finally sadism by the moon
But what goes around comes too, it doesn’t stay
Power absolute corrupts fully, all the wise men say

A new wave will rise soon to break the patterns
Again young blood will be profusely splattered

Even then, the wheel will move on the very path
Till some other wave breaks that epoch of wrath

It will fill old shoes in the name of a novel cause
But none would care taking the road traveled less

This order never will cease; it’s destined to repeat
Thus, same end each crusade inevitably shall meet

Did you say liberty or was it something else?

(I penned this poem a few years back)

Saturday, August 3, 2019


Most of us keep hankering about the happiness we always find so elusive. This conceptual work shows that the light of happiness we seek outside actually lies inside us. True joy cannot be found in any other thing except self.

Medium- Camlin Gold 171 acrylic, FC metallic color pencils and white gel pen on black card paper.

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Friday, July 26, 2019

Love (Art)

Stars, like ripe fruits, hang low enough to be plucked. All we need is support and true love. Be it roaring rivers or high mountains, love makes every goal possible! 

Medium- Camlin 171 Gold acrylic, white gel pen and FC Metallic color pencils on black card paper.