Of People and Places

                       More sketches of sculptures! Stylized figures.                               Vijayanagara style sculpture, from the inscription that accompanied it - Have I told you I really love sketching things that are broken down and in ruins?  Now, what does that tell you about me :D  This was in the small lawn/courtyard kind of thing near the Government museum canteen,  no accompanying information This sculpture near the entrance, again, no information...messed up the proportions majorly! Link to more sketches -  Government Museum Sketching - 1  

A sketch of Mark Cubbon's statue in Cubbon Park, Bangalore On 1 November, we went to Cubbon Park to find it devoid of people! Unimaginable, right? But slowly they started to come, and I felt happier than I have in months.  It was a little weird to be sitting in our favorite place - the stone bench near the government museum canteen, which is generally so full of families out on a picnic, but now I have come to see that it was actually a fantastic chance to be alone there. Not a soul - just the trees, us, the squirrels, birds and the sculptures from some obscure period in history, surrounding us.  I love sketching random people in parks, bus stations and cafes - it is super relaxing and a passive way to get better at making art. So, in the absence of people, what could I sketch? Statues and sculptures.  A sketch of one of the sculptures outside Government museum, Bangalore Actually, they are fantastic subjects. Firstly, they don't have the annoying habit of moving ;D . Secondly,

An Ashy Prinia on our balcony, illustration Right in the middle of the busy chaotic traffic junction that our apartment is close to, there is a tree. Unmindful of all that rushing and hustle and bustle around it, this placid tree stands like an oasis. There are tiny birds in this tree, which my mother tells me are called Ashy Prinia.  Sometimes they sit on the electricity wires that connect our part of the locality to the other side of the road and they look so pretty - like some kind of lively fairy lights, the way they twitter and weave their way. Specks against the sky, finally settling to a comfortable spot. There are too many of them and it is delightful to see their industriousness. They usually confine themselves to the tree. Only during sunrise and sunset and in the rains, they scatter about the terraces. We can see  them from our sixth floor apartment and through the binoculars, we can get a pretty clear view of what they are up to. My mother can often be found with her eyes p

A watercolor portrait of our neighbourhood fish seller, Fayyaz (First published as a part of The Great Indian Project with In Frame Magazine, Chennai) This is Fayyaz. Every morning my mother glances out of the balcony from our 6 th floor apartment and on the days he is spotted in between the dense leaves of the copper pod tree, there is a special gleam in her eye as she says "Shall we get some fish?”   Then my father calls him and asks him what is available. I and my mother go down with a steel dish, and a lid. Cut fish doesn’t make for a savoury sight, not even among fish-eaters. His moped with its crate of fish announces itself by smell before sight. Some call it stench, some call it fragrance. Make of that what you will. A worn out piece of wooden plank is his makeshift chopping board, as he expertly guts the fish, removes the scales and chops them into pieces. Comfortably standing against the scooter that looks ready to topple the minute he shifts his weight – he rattles