Thursday, May 3, 2012

Between Night and Morn

Crescent moon. 2009. charcoal and ink on paper


Continuing with Kahlil Gibran, sharing my favourite lines from the Book Between Night and Morn.

~Be silent, my heart, until Dawn comes,
For he who patiently awaits the morn
Will meet him surely, and he who loves
The light will be loved by the light...

...Be silent, my heart, until Morn comes,
For he who awaits patiently the coming
Of Dawn will be embraced longingly by
Morningtide.
Dawn is breaking.Speak if you are able,
My heart.Here is the procession of
Morningtide...Why do you not speak?
Has not the silence of night left
A song in your inner depths with which
You may meet Dawn? [Between Night and Morn]

~"Hypocrisy will always remain, even if her finger tips are coloured and polished;and Deceit will never change even if her touch becomes soft and delicate; and Falsehood will never turn into Truth even if you dress her with silken robes and place her in the palace;and Greed will not become Contentment;nor will Crime become virtue. And Eternal Slavery to teachings, to customs, and to history will remain Slavery even if she paints her face and disguises her voice. Slavery will remain Slavery in all her horrible form,even if she calls herself Liberty." [The Tempest, Part three]

Sunday, April 29, 2012

The Madman

part of Dreams Unlimited. 2008. ink on paper
 I have been reading Khalil Gibran these days.. quite like it. Done with The Madman...and sharing some of my favourite quotes from the same:

~The “I” in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.[My Friend]

~In my father’s garden there are two cages. In one is a lion, which my father’s slaves brought from the desert of Ninavah; in the other is a songless sparrow.
Every day at dawn the sparrow calls to the lion, “Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner.” [The Two Cages]

~“Yea, we are twin brothers, O, Night; for thou revealest space and I reveal my soul.”[Night and the Madman]

~The Great Longing
Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange. Nay, it is deeper than my sister’s depth and stronger than my brother’s strength, and stranger than the strangeness of my madness.
Aeons upon aeons have passed since the first grey dawn made us visible to one another; and though we have seen the birth and the fullness and the death of many worlds, we are still eager and young.
We are young and eager and yet we are mateless and unvisited, and though we lie in unbroken half embrace, we are uncomforted. And what comfort is there for controlled desire and unspent passion? Whence shall come the flaming god to warm my sister’s bed? And what she-torrent shall quench my brother’s fire? And who is the woman that shall command my heart?
In the stillness of the night my sister murmurs in her sleep the fire-god’s unknown name, and my brother calls afar upon the cool and distant goddess. But upon whom I call in my sleep I know not.

Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange.

~The Eye
Said the Eye one day, “I see beyond these valleys a mountain veiled with blue mist. Is it not beautiful?”
The Ear listened, and after listening intently awhile, said, “But where is any mountain? I do not hear it.”
Then the Hand spoke and said, “I am trying in vain to feel it or touch it, and I can find no mountain.”
And the Nose said, “There is no mountain, I cannot smell it.”

Then the Eye turned the other way, and they all began to talk together about the Eye’s strange delusion. And they said, “Something must be the matter with the Eye.”

~But why should I be here, O God, I a green seed of unfulfilled passion, a mad tempest that seeketh neither east nor west, a bewildered fragment from a burnt planet?
Why am I here, O God of lost souls, thou who art lost amongst the gods?["The Perfect World"]

Read The Madman online: The Madman

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Cul de sac - Doodles

cul de sac 1. used Kajals and wax crayons.A3

cul de sac (another perspective) 2. Used kajals and wax crayons. A3

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

More Cognitive, Less Affective.

So i'm back! in the sense, i'm back with the 'kind' of art i usually do/started with.Currently being somewhat trained in skills and techniques of art i had almost stopped doing my crazy 'free association' art , whether it be thoughts, ideas or emotions. Nevertheless, combining the skills required in art (such as shading, perspective,observation, proportion,etc)CONSCIOUSLY is gonna take some time to seep into me. Somehow when i do art/(more so-used to) i never used to think about HOW it's gonna come out to be. I just did it and let my thoughts give me direction.
This is another one of those pieces...i did recently, and yes, it is more cathartic. I call this 'Twisted Nerve'- and as described in the title, it is more cognitive, and less affective. Somehow these days i've stopped FEELING, for better or worse, just a phase i guess! =)

Twisted Nerve. A3. Natural charcoal and dry pastel on paper.
 The title is of course inspired by the Kill Bill soundtrack. 


Friday, April 13, 2012

Muse

Inspired by Hazel, i had made a sketch of her as an incentive to practice figurative art a few months back, but never really acknowledged it! (coz i believed i sort of spoiled it due to bad shading) Nonetheless, worked on it as a graphic and had some fun.

                                                                                                          pencil on paper(A4)

photoshop


Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Amidst Ruins

Favourite Place. Favourite People. Favourite Date. Favourite Trees. 








 
some captured moments of Hauz Khas ruins, beside the lake on February 13,2012
with people i always love to be with- Aks,[Anwesha's omnipresence], Maitreyi, Ritz & Prateek.

Read about Hauz Khas Complex- Hauz Khas Complex

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Overwhelmed!

Recently, I had a wonderful opportunity of attending a book reading by Gulzar ji's Neglected Poems, his new collection of poems translated by Pavan Verma. Gulzar ji is a gem of a lyricist and a poet. I absolutely love his lyrics...
Nevertheless it was a dream come true to hear him read his poetry...so I grabbed my copy and needless to say thoroughly enjoyed reading The Neglected Poems. Gulzar ji's poems are simple and oh-so rich in imagery!
Sharing one of my favourite from the collection..

ऐश ट्रे पूरी भर गई है ...

जगह नहीं और डायरी में
ये ऐश ट्रे पूरी भर गई है
भरी हुई है जले बुझे अध् कहे ख्यालों की रख-व-बू से
ख्याल पूरी तरह से जो की जले नहीं थे
मसल दिया या दबा दिया था , बुझे नहीं वो
कुछ उनके टुर्रे पड़े हुये हैं
बस एक दो कश ही लेके कुछ मिसरे रह गए थे

कुछ ऐसी नज़्में जो तोड़ कर फेंक दी थी उसमें
धुआं न निकले
कुछ ऐसे आशार जो मेरे 'ब्रैन्ड' के नहीं थे
वो एक ही कश में खांस कर , ऐश ट्रे में
घिस के बुझा दिए थे

इस ऐश ट्रे में
'ब्लेड' से काटी रात की नब्ज़ से टपकते
सियाह कतरे बुझे हुए हैं
छिले हुए चाँद की त्राशें
जो रात भर छील छील कर फेंकता रहा हूँ
घड़ी हुई पेंसिलों के छिलके
ख्यालों की शिदद्तों से  जो टूटती रही हैं

The Ash-tray is Overflowing

No more place is left in the diary:
This ash-tray is completely full!
It is full of the ash and smell of
Half-lit, half-burnt, half-said thoughts;
Thoughts which were not yet fully alight
Stubbed or pushed away, not yet extinguished;
Only some remnants lying about
And some verses
From whom only one or two drags were taken.

Some poems broken and thrown in
so that they do not smoulder;
Other couplets, not of my brand,
Stubbed, after coughing on but one puff.

In this ash-tray
Lie extinguished black drops
Dripping from the vein of the night
Cut by a blade;
Slivers from the moon
Which I have scraped the whole night;
Shavings of pencil which
Kept breaking against the extremes of thought.

Source: Neglected Poems, Gulzar
Translated by Pavan K. Varma