The art of living is, incidentally, the art of losing innocence.
Must we learn to live?
Maybe mystery is the only key to living with innocence-
to alarm the world with the possibility of being as grown up as you are not-
to keep a happy face to hide what you seek-
for the sad are the vulnerable, and innocence is thwarted with knives.
In the hopeful heart of naivety,
what was love?
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Friday, May 23, 2014
freedom
I'll give you what is left;
the admission,
so you can make love to it,
for all you wonder
I'll rape me whole,
for how much you love me,
for you are
the big,
and I am nothing, anyway.
the admission,
so you can make love to it,
for all you wonder
I'll rape me whole,
for how much you love me,
for you are
the big,
and I am nothing, anyway.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Blood can't go up a vein,
words can't be taken back.
Secrets lost
would be lost forever.
Once you're in the light,
there's no dark again.
Tread slow,
keep the voice low,
It's precious,
precious,
precious.
Choose between voice
and silence,
words and lines,
the simple and
beautiful;
between
war and
love.
words can't be taken back.
Secrets lost
would be lost forever.
Once you're in the light,
there's no dark again.
Tread slow,
keep the voice low,
It's precious,
precious,
precious.
Choose between voice
and silence,
words and lines,
the simple and
beautiful;
between
war and
love.
Unreal
Don't stop for them,
or change.
Keep the magic alive.
Don't be taken in,
keep firm,
live unreal.
or change.
Keep the magic alive.
Don't be taken in,
keep firm,
live unreal.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Beauty and the Beast
The Beast hides
beauty in paint
to be saved
of the raven's touch.
Beauty, raw,
a soft core,
a tender heart,
a warm hug,
an open car,
was
touched at it's heart
and had
that night,
by the road.
beauty in paint
to be saved
of the raven's touch.
Beauty, raw,
a soft core,
a tender heart,
a warm hug,
an open car,
was
touched at it's heart
and had
that night,
by the road.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Shift
It is not my clothes nor my curves
that make me strong;
It is how you see me,
and that you do.
My clothes and curves
mean nothing when you are not by my side.
Magic lies not in a trick,
but in eyes that are still eager.
It is not beauty
that makes you strong,
It's the beast that
is dirtier, that
wins this war.
that make me strong;
It is how you see me,
and that you do.
My clothes and curves
mean nothing when you are not by my side.
Magic lies not in a trick,
but in eyes that are still eager.
It is not beauty
that makes you strong,
It's the beast that
is dirtier, that
wins this war.
The Price
Protect the self,
to shine
is to tempt,
the more you shine the
more you tempt the dirty.
To be beautiful
is to tease vultures, bitch.
A room full of wolves,
streets full of gazes.
Protect the self,
from the old
the corrupt
the single
the friend
the stalker
the starved
the city;
or be them,
so there's nothing to protect,
be dirty
so the dirty stay away.
Know who deserve your beauty,
and who, your filth.
to shine
is to tempt,
the more you shine the
more you tempt the dirty.
To be beautiful
is to tease vultures, bitch.
A room full of wolves,
streets full of gazes.
Protect the self,
from the old
the corrupt
the single
the friend
the stalker
the starved
the city;
or be them,
so there's nothing to protect,
be dirty
so the dirty stay away.
Know who deserve your beauty,
and who, your filth.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Rape
Strip her to her naked body
when you meet her
rub your manhood all over it
hurt her like a true man
do tell her how sexy you think she is
force yourself into her if she says nothing
rip her clothes off
for she is a nobody
who needs your fame
show her how desirable you are
for all the women you have in your bed;
how she needs a man
like you for she has no other.
After the rape,
go tell the woman you worship,
you did a woman who desires you a small favor
that the night is done
while your little goddess, the woman like no other, a woman herself, touts her a piece of shit
that must be raped
again
and promises she will be the one who
will pop your children
for she is your truest fan-
and you, hers.
_
when you meet her
rub your manhood all over it
hurt her like a true man
do tell her how sexy you think she is
force yourself into her if she says nothing
rip her clothes off
for she is a nobody
who needs your fame
show her how desirable you are
for all the women you have in your bed;
how she needs a man
like you for she has no other.
After the rape,
go tell the woman you worship,
you did a woman who desires you a small favor
that the night is done
while your little goddess, the woman like no other, a woman herself, touts her a piece of shit
that must be raped
again
and promises she will be the one who
will pop your children
for she is your truest fan-
and you, hers.
_
Significance
In this storm of
voices and faces and houses with numbers,
I am the still
the free
the homeless
the lonely
the voiceless
the child,
I am the desirable.
voices and faces and houses with numbers,
I am the still
the free
the homeless
the lonely
the voiceless
the child,
I am the desirable.
Model
The face is a thought,
an empty paper
the face is a wish
the body is a sleight
and I am everything.
an empty paper
the face is a wish
the body is a sleight
and I am everything.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Thursday, March 6, 2014
survival of the swiftest
The space between one phase of being and another can be as uplifting as deathly:
Make your transitions swift, delay nothing, be clear, know exactly when to retract -
take control over your choices, before they take over you.
Stop for no-one - as no-one would for you.
Make your transitions swift, delay nothing, be clear, know exactly when to retract -
take control over your choices, before they take over you.
Stop for no-one - as no-one would for you.
Innocence found nowhere to go. abused and mistaken it took on their shape.
it's friends had all learnt enough about the world too soon.
He who can not tell right from wrong and good from bad is the slut
Are those who the world has robbed sooner than the others, the men and women who perch comfortably, classify women, who claim class, who mistreat women, who take their talent for granted, or better still do nothing, just sad for what they cannot have back?
But he learnt to stop asking for silly things, and accepted that little truth : that feelings have little or no place in a world dominated by power structures, class, delusions of largeness and facades and misogyny - and they will always win over the truth, over justice, over feelings, over the very momentary seduction of the non-conformism of those structures. He learnt that Wisdom was the end of him.
That to survive, it must be as clever and corrupt.
In a world where even naivety becomes a projection of class and vocabulary for social media seductions, the one who has struggled to make sense of the world all alone foolishly, is better seen as the clever.
The one who can live with the alone-ness of darkness (as outsider), can live with the alone-ness of threat (as insider).
And it went exactly that way.
What they need to be told he thought, is that the outsider only likes life from outside theirs door - he is not interested in their friends, in their people, in their status, in stealing or threatening, or in being loved, he wants only justice. And that the beautiful innocence of understanding the world for yourself, of taking your time, is not the same as being dumb or naive.
He learnt that wisdom itself was just a form of clever, a corruption one learns as an art of self-protection. And that malice and wisdom, too, go hand in hand - and that is the art of the inside.
He could not decide if wisdom was a blessing to be embraced, or if he'd rather fight it and remain a child. the child who will be misunderstood as childhood passes by, mistaken as more malicious than those who actually play and fight to remain with and besides others, to remain inside.
Niceness, naivety, rebellion, love, friendship is just another word for foolishness.
For the only thing that moves the world is strength, class, images, and who you can keep at bay thus.
it's friends had all learnt enough about the world too soon.
He who can not tell right from wrong and good from bad is the slut
Are those who the world has robbed sooner than the others, the men and women who perch comfortably, classify women, who claim class, who mistreat women, who take their talent for granted, or better still do nothing, just sad for what they cannot have back?
But he learnt to stop asking for silly things, and accepted that little truth : that feelings have little or no place in a world dominated by power structures, class, delusions of largeness and facades and misogyny - and they will always win over the truth, over justice, over feelings, over the very momentary seduction of the non-conformism of those structures. He learnt that Wisdom was the end of him.
That to survive, it must be as clever and corrupt.
In a world where even naivety becomes a projection of class and vocabulary for social media seductions, the one who has struggled to make sense of the world all alone foolishly, is better seen as the clever.
The one who can live with the alone-ness of darkness (as outsider), can live with the alone-ness of threat (as insider).
And it went exactly that way.
What they need to be told he thought, is that the outsider only likes life from outside theirs door - he is not interested in their friends, in their people, in their status, in stealing or threatening, or in being loved, he wants only justice. And that the beautiful innocence of understanding the world for yourself, of taking your time, is not the same as being dumb or naive.
He learnt that wisdom itself was just a form of clever, a corruption one learns as an art of self-protection. And that malice and wisdom, too, go hand in hand - and that is the art of the inside.
He could not decide if wisdom was a blessing to be embraced, or if he'd rather fight it and remain a child. the child who will be misunderstood as childhood passes by, mistaken as more malicious than those who actually play and fight to remain with and besides others, to remain inside.
Niceness, naivety, rebellion, love, friendship is just another word for foolishness.
For the only thing that moves the world is strength, class, images, and who you can keep at bay thus.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Reversing love
It is the search for beauty and love that seems the only thing futile in a world full of clever, compromise, and lack of holisitic reason : individual reigning, individual imposing, individual benefit; rather than absorbing, understanding, questioning, adapting and seeking change.
In this complex world of competition and self-motive in which everyone is trying to make their own place, (measured now by their online voices), innocence has nowhere to go. It is
straddled remorselessly. To be lost is to be foolish and entirely alone.
What happens when we suspend everything we live for?
In this complex world of competition and self-motive in which everyone is trying to make their own place, (measured now by their online voices), innocence has nowhere to go. It is
straddled remorselessly. To be lost is to be foolish and entirely alone.
What happens when we suspend everything we live for?
Monday, December 16, 2013
rape
When you force yourself on a woman as a display of power because you 'can', or when you make sexual advances on a woman who does not want such attention from you - unless it is consensual; you conquer nothing that is her except reduce the integrity of a body without it's consent. The body you have prized yourself with could be any - it is a body devoid of itself : she loses nothing, you gain nothing.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Recently at Lila, Shahpur Jat.
A reading of some stories from 'This Side That Side: Re-storying Partition' by the brilliant mentor and editor Vishwakyoti Ghosh, including 'The Taboo' - written by Malini Gupta, illustrated by me.
Wish i had documented the event. This is what i have to show for it in retrospect.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Untitled
I'm here right now
just so
every time i am amidst you,
I can walk,
with my head held high;
my secrets, mine.
just so
every time i am amidst you,
I can walk,
with my head held high;
my secrets, mine.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Kindness
-saying thankyou and valuing what others do
-keeping things simple for yourself
-being glad for all that you have
-having fun no matter what
-being articulate and understood
There is a fine line that separates he who is heard and trusted, from the constantly unreliable and incapable mad man, he who has no place in society no matter what his cause.
-keeping things simple for yourself
-being glad for all that you have
-having fun no matter what
-being articulate and understood
There is a fine line that separates he who is heard and trusted, from the constantly unreliable and incapable mad man, he who has no place in society no matter what his cause.
Friday, October 4, 2013
The simple things in life.
Simple joys.
Simple aspirations.
Simple fun.
Simple excitement.
Looking good. Enjoying good food. Good friends, loving the family. Travelling. Keeping fit.
Keeping up to date. Keeping busy.
Charting exciting new (simple) things for the future.
Knowing my priorities, and working on basic discipline : being on time, giving in work on time.
Living in the moment. Being honest. The reflection : keeping yourself sorted.
Not being lazy. Feeling light. Keeping anchored to your roots.
Valuing what you create/know/do - whatever it is - and learning to share happily and confidently.
A simple love for being, me.
It's really that easy and fun!
Simple joys.
Simple aspirations.
Simple fun.
Simple excitement.
Looking good. Enjoying good food. Good friends, loving the family. Travelling. Keeping fit.
Keeping up to date. Keeping busy.
Charting exciting new (simple) things for the future.
Knowing my priorities, and working on basic discipline : being on time, giving in work on time.
Living in the moment. Being honest. The reflection : keeping yourself sorted.
Not being lazy. Feeling light. Keeping anchored to your roots.
Valuing what you create/know/do - whatever it is - and learning to share happily and confidently.
A simple love for being, me.
It's really that easy and fun!
Drawings from here and there
prayas with sourav
friend
saumya bhaiya
tea shop before morning run
cat in the studio
dogs
when Ari returned to town : at Sukruta's
Shillong townscape
the lady on the other terrace
Chandni relaxing
Relaxing Randeep
Go Discover Rhymes : Interactive early learning smart book
Graphic design and illustration for the 'Go-Discover Rhymes' series of the Go-Discover Interactive early learning smart books. This was a set of 8 educational smart books that used touch and sound technology via an interactive pen, for children between 2-5 years of age.
This set of interactive books was launched at the book fair in delhi on February 11, 2013.
These are the pages i designed and illustrated in January for one of the 8 books - the book of Rhymes. The other books were the book of Numbers, Alphabets, Stories, Animals, Fruits and Colours. This was the last addition in the series, and this would not have been possible in the time we had without the support of the wonderful Sonia Swaroop of Go-Discover books.
Illustrations for Helter Skelter magazine
Illustrations for Helter-Skelter's New Writing vol 3.
'Strange love'
'Roseapples'
'Papercut on tongue'
Viewable here : http://helterskelter.in/
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Andaman n Nicobar
This time : The Andamans.
A post on the most amazing holidays i had in the last year is due.
Watch this space for drawings and a travel log.
A post on the most amazing holidays i had in the last year is due.
Watch this space for drawings and a travel log.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
the true and the honest
There is no need to give anyone anything that is truly precious to oneself unless necessary - the art of communication lies in not bringing oneself to a place where you need to explain yourself or prove a point, your actions are self-sufficient, and almost none of those who need you to explain in the first place, will understand or respect it.
They will consider themselves privileged to take something away from you without earning it, things only the true and the honest in your life deserve.
For all the rest, be fair, be kind, be honest without forcing what is sacred and close to your heart on them.
They will consider themselves privileged to take something away from you without earning it, things only the true and the honest in your life deserve.
For all the rest, be fair, be kind, be honest without forcing what is sacred and close to your heart on them.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Feminine expectations
They watch, we please
exhibit change display reveal
dress compete
seduce,
to not
is to not please
is to be a man
is not feminine enough
to be,
is not me,
to please.
change-display-continue-complete
or lose, for
the next door is brighter now.
To compete or not be admired,
which is worse?
To please or not be desired,
which is worse?
To not be the spectator or not be a woman,
which is worse?
exhibit change display reveal
dress compete
seduce,
to not
is to not please
is to be a man
is not feminine enough
to be,
is not me,
to please.
change-display-continue-complete
or lose, for
the next door is brighter now.
To compete or not be admired,
which is worse?
To please or not be desired,
which is worse?
To not be the spectator or not be a woman,
which is worse?
Monday, July 15, 2013
The feminine
Growing up is best a strife.
We can only strive for grace by knowing what it means to be foolish.
For, what is not acquired out of your own accord, is as good as not known.
And for, once you 'grow up' to fit into what is considered correct/wise/good, there is little way back to foolishness - you have only so many years while you're allowed the liberty to not know, to explore freely, to be entirely foolish without letting too much at stake (speaking as a girl). Once you align yourself, you see yourself the way the world sees you, you are responsible for maintaining your voice, maintaining that grace, for being responsible and correct.
Time makes it mandatory to take charge sooner than later (again speaking as a girl bound by a social structure), to anchor oneself, 'impose' your identity and place among the many, and seek comfort. it becomes mandatory to take charge, and most importantly be heard and strive to be understood, rather than simply explore and rebel at your own terms.
The fool is lost, unrestrained by the control we exercise on ourselves to be 'right', to be 'clever', to fit into the structure. the fool is vast as the open sky. the fool is as free as he is vulnerable or alone. but the fool is also harmless(read unimportant), he is lovable. it is a self-destructive space to be in alright, in a world where the winners are running constantly to seek only more stability and definition; being lost, is being excluded, and so one must be strong enough to not lose the sight to emerge, to know you have to lose only to know better - if you do tread there. And those who wander, do.
I am glad i have been foolish. As foolish as i wanted to be to live the 'unwise' side of life. I became the fool who did not know who belonged to me, or how to define myself, amongst a world of anchored friends. what came to me, became mine.
i explored everything i could possibly be, and everything i became, i broke. i created without defining the self.
Theres no right or wrong, no good nor bad, and no way to judge a person, alight.
what matters here is that It is those who stand at the edge, who stand outside the set norm, who need most to heed the fine line between madness and being communicative. For weakness or loneliness is far worse than mediocrity. thought one day, over-thinking the next. Exotic one moment, mad the next; the lines are so fine - and one has to be conscious enough to remain articulate at all times just so you don't get taken for granted for being 'crazy'.
I suppose the power of beauty or happiness compensates for everything: all we need is to have a graceful step, the ability to coexist beautifully, and it hardly matters what you think or believe.
Tone too is key in separating the wise from the fool.
One can humor everything and every question can be expressed as an answer. Everyone is wise anyway - what makes one heard then?
everyone around me has a voice. the image aids the voice and vice versa
what is my voice? am i voiceless? am i every kind of voice?
i'm still understanding my voice..
till then bare with the inconsistencies of my voice.
i dissolved everything when i chose so - and then defined myself again.
confusing and alarming those who know me, too. (i'm sure)
In a world of images, you have to be an image too: something impressionable, recognizable, definable. if everything is moving as it really is, where do we centre ourselves?
what do we cling to an image for - and is every image not cerebral and conscious? - that is where the question of intelligent choice comes in, to be able to choose spontaneously and intelligently at every step. pick your causes and your voice from the myriad causes and voices.
________
In the light of Rape being the most used four letters in the news, at the tip of the tongue of every student, boy, girl, page and column of every daily at the moment; (as if it was just discovered and all other crimes were inconsequential in it's critical rise), i add my inconsequential tweet to the mob. i'm in no position to comment on society or indian society or make any such sweeping commnets, but, at a very personal level, i'm able to connect it to a very normal act of foolishness most individuals deals with or explore - the treatment (or mistreatment) of the body. 'growing up' is important in understanding the self, the choices we make may not always be right; being mistreated has little to do with strangers, or class or country, but making yourself clear to even friends what a woman makes of her own self- every day and every minute, and the lesser sensitivity with which men, the other half of the yin and yang, see or need to see their bodies, which is perhaps at the root of the huge responsibility that comes with being a woman.
We can only strive for grace by knowing what it means to be foolish.
For, what is not acquired out of your own accord, is as good as not known.
And for, once you 'grow up' to fit into what is considered correct/wise/good, there is little way back to foolishness - you have only so many years while you're allowed the liberty to not know, to explore freely, to be entirely foolish without letting too much at stake (speaking as a girl). Once you align yourself, you see yourself the way the world sees you, you are responsible for maintaining your voice, maintaining that grace, for being responsible and correct.
Time makes it mandatory to take charge sooner than later (again speaking as a girl bound by a social structure), to anchor oneself, 'impose' your identity and place among the many, and seek comfort. it becomes mandatory to take charge, and most importantly be heard and strive to be understood, rather than simply explore and rebel at your own terms.
The fool is lost, unrestrained by the control we exercise on ourselves to be 'right', to be 'clever', to fit into the structure. the fool is vast as the open sky. the fool is as free as he is vulnerable or alone. but the fool is also harmless(read unimportant), he is lovable. it is a self-destructive space to be in alright, in a world where the winners are running constantly to seek only more stability and definition; being lost, is being excluded, and so one must be strong enough to not lose the sight to emerge, to know you have to lose only to know better - if you do tread there. And those who wander, do.
I am glad i have been foolish. As foolish as i wanted to be to live the 'unwise' side of life. I became the fool who did not know who belonged to me, or how to define myself, amongst a world of anchored friends. what came to me, became mine.
i explored everything i could possibly be, and everything i became, i broke. i created without defining the self.
Theres no right or wrong, no good nor bad, and no way to judge a person, alight.
what matters here is that It is those who stand at the edge, who stand outside the set norm, who need most to heed the fine line between madness and being communicative. For weakness or loneliness is far worse than mediocrity. thought one day, over-thinking the next. Exotic one moment, mad the next; the lines are so fine - and one has to be conscious enough to remain articulate at all times just so you don't get taken for granted for being 'crazy'.
I suppose the power of beauty or happiness compensates for everything: all we need is to have a graceful step, the ability to coexist beautifully, and it hardly matters what you think or believe.
Tone too is key in separating the wise from the fool.
One can humor everything and every question can be expressed as an answer. Everyone is wise anyway - what makes one heard then?
everyone around me has a voice. the image aids the voice and vice versa
what is my voice? am i voiceless? am i every kind of voice?
i'm still understanding my voice..
till then bare with the inconsistencies of my voice.
i dissolved everything when i chose so - and then defined myself again.
confusing and alarming those who know me, too. (i'm sure)
In a world of images, you have to be an image too: something impressionable, recognizable, definable. if everything is moving as it really is, where do we centre ourselves?
what do we cling to an image for - and is every image not cerebral and conscious? - that is where the question of intelligent choice comes in, to be able to choose spontaneously and intelligently at every step. pick your causes and your voice from the myriad causes and voices.
________
In the light of Rape being the most used four letters in the news, at the tip of the tongue of every student, boy, girl, page and column of every daily at the moment; (as if it was just discovered and all other crimes were inconsequential in it's critical rise), i add my inconsequential tweet to the mob. i'm in no position to comment on society or indian society or make any such sweeping commnets, but, at a very personal level, i'm able to connect it to a very normal act of foolishness most individuals deals with or explore - the treatment (or mistreatment) of the body. 'growing up' is important in understanding the self, the choices we make may not always be right; being mistreated has little to do with strangers, or class or country, but making yourself clear to even friends what a woman makes of her own self- every day and every minute, and the lesser sensitivity with which men, the other half of the yin and yang, see or need to see their bodies, which is perhaps at the root of the huge responsibility that comes with being a woman.
(i wouldn't know what men really feel about their bodies - so this is just an observation from popular culture)
Here goes my own little imagery, the frightful image of being mistreated or taken for granted, which almost amounts to letting yourself be raped.
Of letting your body in hands that may not respect your body the way you do,
either because you did not make the other see it such, or because, a man really never can.
This is in hindi. Continued later.
kal main ek khwahish thi
kal main ek khwahish thi
aur aaj
kisi ki hansee hoon
tum hanse ho
apni uss chhat ke neeche
iss rooh mein kuch nahi chupane ya dikhane ko,
woh sundar jo saaf hai
kyon jatati hoon mein dosti
bina duniya ko samjhe
kyon rehti hoon mein chhup
samajhne ki koshish mein
joh chahtein hain mujhe,
aur
jo mere layak hi nahi
aur aaj phir jaati hoon wahan
uss rooh ko khojnein
jise choo kar tum chhat ke neeche hanse
kyon?
kya jataoon useh
jiska ek mazaak hoon main
jisne pyaar ki ehmiyat ko cheena
phir bhi jaati hoon main,
tumme ab
uss mazaak ka nyay khojne
mere rooh ko khojne
uss hansi mein
kaun hain mere apne?
aur kaun hain paraye?
main ek mazaak,
aur main woh mazaak phir karoongi
baar baar,
kyonki tum ek ghatiya insaan ho
aur mein jhooti
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