Working with Water

Howdy!

Recently, I have been feeling very artistic and my creative flare has been beyond bounds. This happens quite a lot when I need a break from college and when I’m ignoring my incomplete lab journal. :p

So this time I went exploring with various art forms. From sketching to sculpting and my favourite, painting with watercolours.

So this post is going to be a compilation of few off my many random watercolour projects.

I’ve only included completed projects.

So, lets go!

Continue reading “Working with Water”

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Meaning Of Life…

I am not very verbose. I am more of a thinker than a speaker. Usually you will find me reading something or the other. For me its an addiction. because reading opens up doors to a world very different from my own. Books give me an opportunity to ponder on the thoughts of other people and experience life from a different point of view.

 

I have been reading this amazing book by Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram.

 

I am sure many of you might have heard of this book.

 

This book with really small font size and a whooping 933 pages is based majorly in Mumbai of 1980s. Bombay as I would like to call it in this context.

 

But for me, this book means a lot more than a well written novel about the city I love. You see, each character in this book has a past, has something to say, a lot to share and the little that is written and of what I understand seems to give me a much better perspective of life than anything I have read till date.

 

I would like you read the following excerpt from Shantaram.

This is a conversation between a very, very influential man, Khaderbhai and his apprentice, the author of the book (here, Lin)

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And miles to go before I sleep…

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

BY Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
.

Continue reading “And miles to go before I sleep…”