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Art Imitating Life

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art that imitates Life..or is it the other way round? What's a good blog without space for the writer to blow his own trumpet? And blowing one's own gilded trumpet being the sole reason that blogs exist for, this here are some of my scribbles and doodles and my attempts at watercolors that i am told are presentable to the world. Do let me know what you think. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Here are some the latest ones, results of hours spent at coffee shops over endless cups of hot chocolate. The start of good beginnings. Ganesha here, is the scribe assisting Vyasa in writing down the Mahabharat. Ganesha is said to have agreed to write it only on the condition that Vyasa never pause in his recitation. Vyasa agreed, provided Ganesha took the time to understand what was said before writing it down. This one was created in the leafy environs of the Krishna temple in Indiranagar, Bangalore. Glory be to our religion that allows for such
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A Diwali in Gokarna

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The thing about travel writing is that words can never capture the smells and sounds of the journey and that of the places where our feet take us. How does one begin to describe the ethereal sight of rain swollen paddy fields arising out of the dawn mist beneath the foothills of the western ghats? I left bangalore for gokarna on diwali day, a few hours before most parts of the city erupted into a war zone. The intent was to escape for a couple of days at least, to a place that in my researched imagination, offered a refuge to spend some time by myself in quiet reflection. The twelve hour journey kickstarted from the s.r.s. travels terminus in majestic. And apart from a very unintentionally hilarious kannada flick called 'sringara kavya' the journey was quite uneventful and comfortable. The tickets cost us 400 one way per head.By city slicker standards, gokarna is a tiny hamlet, centered wholly around its ancient temples. The town, if I can call it that, is easily covered on foo
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The Battle

I am fighting a battle, a battle that is raging on even as I speak and I have the scars to show for it. I have been wounded, bloodied, mauled beyond repair. Several times I have been forced to think of surrender and retreat. The onslaught is horrific and unrelenting but I called upon my reserves, I rallied my forces, I disciplined the last remaining foot soldiers and urged them to put up a last fighting stand against the enemy. The enemy, a very capable and dangerous fighting force, one of whose likes have never been seen before in this part of the world, equipped with the most deadly weaponry known to man. Backed by a even more powerful force, one that knows no mercy, no creed, religion, nothing makes any difference to the carnage it unleashes on its path to the ultimate goal. His powers are unlimited, unrelenting and he can be sadistically cruel as he wants. His tentacles reach out into the hidden corners of our kingdom, sucking out the very essence and every resource that we hav
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