From now on.

Its been a REAL long time that I've blogged and its only because i was riding a roller coaster called life.
Alot of things happened over a period of time. When I look back today, I realize how badly I wanted that time to pass. How self destructive my life had become, but in reality someone in some corner was secretly building me up.
Its true, there is a phase in everybody's life that is a benchmark of their being. Adulthood, its crazy and more than than the transformation of teenage to an adult is an eyeopener. Things we read in our school books, morals that the stories taught us are all rotting in some dirty corner during that time (well at least in my case). One fine day, u explode, this is not your life, this is not how you planned, not how its supposed to be. That day the story makes one of the biggest turns.
Crisp and Clear I remember my day of explosion. I did a lot of things recklessly, I played around with people, I boasted my fake self, I did everything that one is not supposed to do.
I broke, shattered myself in to little pieces that even after 2 years i'm still collecting them.
There is a miracle in my life, and I'm the only witness.
To picture this, I was on the edge till that day, till that phone call. And after that call, I had fallen off the cliff, all I  held to was a rope, which was thrown at me as a mercy.
Moments were when I wanted to just leave it and fall to my own disgust, moments were when I felt the rope loosening the other end, moments were when I wanted to climb back and be normal again but there was just grey air around me and the rope.
With time, the rope just withered and became harder to trust on.
But I held and climbed up the hope and here I am. Secretly the person who held the rope at the first place had become a rock with time. And now I stay at the cliff, with the just one hope, to see the rock turn back.

Shout and Whisper!

Sketches in Ink

Sketches Ahmedabad
Medium: Ink (black)
Jama Masjid, Old City


National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad

Sangath - Office of Ar. B.V Doshi

Jama Masjid

Jawahar Kala Kendra, Jaipur


Jama Masjid, Ahmedabad

Darkness

Golden temple.

Sone di zameen
beri de dwaar
lakhan akhiyan di aas
hathan di ardas
tu ve sajn
Na sikh, na hindi na hi muslim
main haan us sajn de chaar dwar

har parikarma di har ardas
har deep di har jot
koi apni jit te koi apni haar
le k aya tere ghar
koi tera upkar te koi teri shikayat
le k aya tere ghar


har kahani da ek aisa
sach jaanda
sirf tu

lakhan dilan di sun
har dil ch tere
layi ek sandes aya
dak nhi
par bhejan wala aya
na tera koi roop
na teri koi kahan

sahi kehni ae meri maa
vishwas te tiki ae zindagani
lakhan vishwas ne tikaya
tera sansar

hazaran meelan to khich
le aya tera vishwas.
sachi suchi thaan
te sacha sucha banda
aap hi khush
aap hi khushi hai

mere varge kavi di kavita
kisi chitrkaar de rang
kisi ragi da raag
kisi vyakti da vyaktitav
kisi zameen di pehchan
sajn ve,
aya tere ghar
vsa lae apna sansar

tera sarovar, sirf amrit nahi
par ek ek bande da dhedha hai
tere hon di vajah
sirf ramdas nhi
par ek ek bande di aas te pryaas hai
sajn ve tu vda
tera naam hor v vda

gumnaam hoke v tera vda naam.

Graffiti!

Inking

Inking

Charcoal

The Unknown Indian

During one of my journeys back home in our precious 'Indian Railways' , as usual i was staring out of the window, music in my ears and absorbing every bit of what i see. Suddenly i realize i should buy a professional camera, this was when the train slowed and it was crossing a station, a really long one.

The board read Phagwara Junction, just behind the board , sun was setting and i had a zooming out of its view. I turn my head look at the platform so  much stuff happening silently, some sadhus talking , 3 boys look at the train and smiling, some kids waiting and wondering what is happening and their families in the endless wait of the train, a couple at the other corner, they are close and the guy is younger, she was smiling and the train stopped with a jerk putting my focus on two sadhus. one of them was bathing with a cloth tied on his lower body and the other was done with his bath, he displayed an attire typical to the word Sadhu, a white super loose kurta and a dhoti, he seemed to be very comfortable, he was not wearing anything on his head and had long hair, he might have just had his head bath . Surprisingly he had a comb too and was untangling his hair, i searched for his turban there it was on the pillar, washed and getting ready to crown him. he was not aware of me noticing me, i wonder if he was then he must have not done things so naturally, he then took out took out a steel glass and a packet of food which was tucked safely between his blanket kept for next winters. he opens the packed and safely gets his wallet out and puts it into his kurta's inner pocket without letting the other sadhu know! Oh! His street smart skills and the horn blows I stare at him and I realize his entire life was in those 2 thailas and a blanket he had, he was homeless and i wonder after how long he had his such a luxurious bath.

He was just one out of millions of such sadhus in India. Either the situation or the desire, whatever the reason may be of their being, they know how to find happiness. the little happiness in having a bath on the station. For him nobody was looking at him in such a public place. He was so habitual to ignorance.

We aim for big shot lavish bungalows Jacuzzi and what not! I don't say that owning such things is bad but these things matter the least, just imagine this man had NOTHING like NOTHING. I cannot even imagine of surviving this way.

Now he may be a fraud but unknowingly he let me believe in happiness and he became the hero of this article.