Of People and Places

A sketch of a Rufous Treepie Some small watercolor sketches of birds I spotted in Bhopal ( I should probably say that my friends spotted most of them and patiently pointed to where they were - I am terrible at spotting birds, especially through binoculars - most of the times they've already flown away by the time I painstakingly narrow down on their location - but I am getting better at it :D) , some near Jat Khedi, and others on the way to Kathotia.  A sketch of a Green bee-eater (One of my favourites) A sketch of Indian Grey Hornbill A sketch of Rose-ringed Parakeet A sketch of Purple Sunbird (Ooh, how I love this bird)  Here's an interesting article about how the males change colour  A sketch of Red-whiskered Bulbul                                          All my tree/birds/animals posts -  A Black - naped Oriole in Bangalore Sketching in Belgaum rains An Ash...

  Black-naped Oriole  in Bangalore - watercolor illustration This bird always comes at the same time in the morning and always sits on the same spot on a Ficus tree. On windy, rainy days, she looks just like the vivid fluttering leaves around her. Her striking green and yellow feathers look marvellous in flight. The most recognizable feature is the black band around the nape.  I am assuming it is a she because her wings are greener whereas males are supposed to have more yellowish upperparts. She doesn't stay for long, screeches like someone's throttling her ;D , sometimes ending in a long sneezing sound. She leaves just as quickly as she appears, no dawdling around.  More posts about birds and trees -  An Ashy Prinia on the balcony and hope  Black-crowned night heron at Madiwala lake   Whited breasted water hen in Belgaum The Saptaparni tree in Hoshangabad Fun with Babool tree pods, Bhopal The Baobab trees of Mandu Birds in Belgaum A love letter to th...

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 ...

Plein Air He slowly packed up his brushes, misshapen paint tubes,rolled up his paintings,  slung his heavy bag on his shoulders and left. And as he walked, the landscape followed. It kept following him, unwilling to let him go, until all that was left of it..... was the painting.  This idea was sparked by a workshop of Prashant Miranda's that I attended ( at the Neev literature fest 2019) . It was interesting and I had a fantastic time looking at all his sketches, especially his travel sketchbooks.  His delightful travel illustrations really carry a sense of place and transport you.  I found it enchanting that he paints every watercolor from the water he finds in the place he visits - so it is like a piece of the landscape that has seeped into his sketchbook :)  This post is also dedicated to amazing artists whose plein air watercolors have inspired me - Bhargavkumar Kulkarni, Sadhu Aliyur, Kangkan Das, Milind Mulick, Prash...

A lone boatman glides on his cool blue boat on the Madu River, Sri Lanka It had rained heavily in the morning so everything looked clean and fresh as we set out on the Madu river safari at  around 4 PM. The same river that was agitated by the relentless raindrops now sat serene and comfortable, waking up from an afternoon siesta. The Madu river or Maduganga is a lovely green. I rank it second in beauty ( first is Kali river in Dandeli .)   The river is surrounded by mangroves . A makeshift shack that sells tourists some snacks and fruits is balanced precariously on stilts in the middle of the water. A little girl waves at us from inside. On a fallen tree, we spot a monitor lizard, basking in the sun.

We saw this beautiful couple in Kandy. The Sinhalese Buddhist wedding attire is very eye-catching and glamorous. The bride looks like the legendary heroines we hear of in the Ramayana and the Mahabharata ( Not sure if my illustration does justice, so do check out pictures online) - sparkling away in her wedding finery. The dress is similar to the Indian saree, called Osaria/ Kandyan Saree, but it has a neriya - a short piece of cloth that wraps around the midriff and unlike the Indian saree, the midriff is only partially covered.  I really love the jewelry worn on the hair - it makes them look royal and dignified. And the groom's attire is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The jacket is beautifully embroidered. If anyone can tell me more about how these traditional garments evolved and their history, I'd be happy to hear from you :) Do comment!

On Day 2 of our tour in Sri Lanka, we took a road trip to the Pinnawala elephant orphanage . On the way, I was delighted to be on the canal road - where colorful boats lined up on the waterway on the right while tuk-tuks , cars and buses plied on the road that we were on. This is the Dutch canal/ Hamilton canal   connecting Puttalam to Colombo. It runs across many towns and landscapes and my only regret is that we did not go on a boat ride on the canal. It was constructed by the Dutch to be a supply route for agricultural produce and goods to be transported to the sea port at Negombo. It connects to the Muthrajawela wetlands in the Negombo lagoon, a marsh with incredible biodiversity, from what I've read. Next time I visit Sri Lanka, the canal  and Negombo lagoon are definitely on my bucket list.

I like Deepavali/Diwali because it goads us to clean our houses, declutter our minds and make fresh starts. That though life keeps throwing you back in the darkness which you thought you had escaped, you can find the light inside your own self to find your way out of the darkness. Diwali reminds me that I can choose. Choose to walk in the well-lit path of kindness, compassion, warmth and love and leave malice, ignorance and complacence in the shadows. You can be the richest person in town or the humblest, but one little diya with oil and a wick can spread the same warmth and joy whether you live in the most opulent palace or the meanest shanty. So happy Diwali, and keep the fire burning bright! The light may flicker, but it will never wane. 

Come October and Bangalore changes. There is a mellowness in the air and it gets warmer as the rains give in to the winter months reluctantly. All the seasons seem to jealously guard their reign. Spring, Monsoon, Autumn and Winter hate to give up their time in the sun. It is sunny, warm and bright. Leaves are strewn about every morning and evening while the undaunted  sweepers pile them up on the street corners. It rains on some days and the leaves are in a soggy mess of yellows,reds and browns on the roads, squelching underfoot. The Almond trees are lovely. Their broad leaves wait patiently for the wind to carry them to their graves. Not very romantic graves. They fall on the sides of the roads, get stuck to unsuspecting cars and vehicles, and clog the gutters. This time of the season has an austere beauty. Autumn is like a prudish beautiful woman unwilling to let herself go the way Spring does, and almost on  her way to becoming like the eldest - frosty w...

Sights of Colva beach at sunset.   As I plopped down in the soft sand, the sun hid in the soft clouds, for some reason, embarrassed.   This was an amazing sight. If it weren't for the horizon line, you couldn't make out where the land ended and the sky began.  The sea and solitude. This lonely figure stretched its arms to the sea as if wanting to be swallowed. The other three were blissfully unaware, secure in each other's company.   The sea speaks - of lost loves and longings, of broken dreams and shattered faith. Things we dare not express the waves imbibe and reveal. 

The roads to Camp 4 are lined with Prayer flags fluttering in the wind. Old, tattered, new, bright, faded; all kinds surround the trees, the electric poles, backyards and fences. It is a sultry afternoon in April, and a cuckoo calls out for rain with longing. Rows of Silver Oak trees flank the roads and narrow streets and the bougainvillea are in full bloom. Across the Paljor Dhargey Ling guest house where we are to stay is a vast open space, leading to narrower gullies. Camp 4 is a quaint place.  There are monks in maroon robes and yellow shirts walking on the streets and  old women with colorful banded aprons, clutching prayer beads.  Located to the west of Mysore in Coorg in Karnataka, Bylakuppe has been the home of Tibetan refugees since 1960 after the Chinese Occupation of their country led to a life in exile. After Dharamshala in Himachal Pradesh, the camps near Bylakuppe represent the second largest Tibetan settlements in India. Murky as the path to this ...

Goa diary : 16 August 2016 South Goa is for the traveller. Let the tourist be content with North Goa and all the touristy things it has to offer. We went to the fine white beach of Colva in South Goa in the monsoons. The sky was overcast, men stood in a haphazard line, in shorts and raincoats, funny because some of them were going to wade into the sea anyway to draw the fishing net! The boats drew closer and the men came alive. They brought in the fishing net tangled with seaweed, bits of shells and of course fish. Fishes gasped for air, swishing their tails, and all at once it seemed like the entire beach was filled with them, shining like pieces of tinsel here and there, jumping out of the nets. The stray dogs eyed them, nosing around them in the sand. The crows overhead also waited for a chance to swoop down. A slight drizzle had begun. Undaunted, the men hauled the net in. Women hung around in the background with raincoats and umbrellas, waiting to load the fish into ...

For most people Goa is a holiday destination, a place of endless booze and partying, fresh seafood, expensive restaurants and weekend getaways. Not for Konkanis, though. As a child, I hated the fact that visits to Goa were mostly restricted to visiting the Mangeshi Mutt (temple), with an occasional trip to the beach and I longed for all those touristy things that other people did :) As I grew older, I began to see that a lot exists beyond both these things. A vast part of Goa is unexplored, untouched by the madness that tourists bring with them. Take Chandor, for instance,  a charming village in South Goa. It is a small village that can be explored on foot. In the monsoons, this place is too beautiful for words. Luckily, we had a friend who lives there to show us around. On the way to Chandor, amid stretches of forests, you will see typical Goan houses. The houses have covered porches that face the street, and invariably you will see someone sitting there, reading a newspap...

Summers were all about watermelon in Udupi. We - me and my sister, never felt the scorching heat that used to bother the adults around us. It was all about endless days of playing, running wild and whiling away time. We would strip down to our undies and be duly handed slices of  cold watermelon to eat. We would polish them off slowly. The juice trickled down our chins and stained our drawers, but we ate it with abandon. That's my sister spitting out the seeds like a pro : D It was also that time of my childhood which must have been a trial for my parents, now that I think of it. You know the time,  when your  milk teeth are falling out, and you are increasingly difficult, annoying and doing all the socially inappropriate things that are hilarious in retrospect, but not so funny, especially to one's parents at the time. The Dennis the menace years, I would call them :) So go on and find yourself a slice of nostalgia this summer and let's say cheers to those good old...

On the way back from Nashik to Pune by bus, we stopped at a wayside dhaba for tea. It was around four in the evening and a very beautiful windy day outside. I saw this unforgettable landscape - A goatherd in a red turban surrounded by the beautiful green of the countryside and the goats happily grazing near the trees. As the bus moved away, they almost disappeared until  I could see only a bright red speck in the distance with black dots hovering around it. 

I had heard so much about baobab trees and I finally had a chance to meet one at Mandu. Mandu or Mandav is an ancient fortress town in the Malwa region of Madhya Pradesh. It is a place after my own heart with ruins scattered all over the place making it a town of breathtaking beauty. Much more about Mandu later (I haven’t even begun!) Let’s go back to our baobab tree. Fields with yellow and green dot the path to the village and in the midst stand these curious trees.   They have massive trunks that store water. To me, they look like a cross between a bottle and an elephant – and I find their shape comforting.   These trees are native to Africa. I am curious to know how they got here! Apparently, they are among the most ancient trees on earth.  Locals sell the baobab tree seeds, they are called   Mandu ki imli. They taste like tamarind but have this incredible zing and saltiness. I liked it but not a good idea to eat too much of it (My cavities are tingling at...