Long Lost Passion



In December last year I borrowed a book from my friend. She said while giving the book that it a good read. Indeed it was. Due to exams then a few personal engagements I was reading that 461 page book at a turtle's speed. Almost a month later I had covered only 126 pages. Apart from the reasons mentioned above one more thing was pulling me back.. My habit of googling every new location that is mentioned in a book.. And why not if a book is that intriguing then you have to know the exact location and the images of the places described so beautifully. The book was Inferno by Dan Brown.

Thus by the time I reached St. Mark's Square, Venice ( page 303 according to the book) I had visited all the places not only through the author words but also with some help of Google. I was baffled with the author writing techniques. The way he made all the architectural wonders alive through his words and the way he kept on weaving the intricate plot, I was completely mesmerized..

That was the moment when I was googling images of St Marks Basilica and Square, I came up with an image of St marks basilica. Sun was pouring down the square. The golden aura that filled the surrounding buildings and the towers, stole my attention. I remember staring at the image for a long time.

That moment I wished that if I get some free time I would sketch this image.. Immediately I saved it.

After almost a month I was going through the pictures on my phone and I came across that same image.. That very moment i search for my old sketch book and started drawing..

Sketch of St. Marks Square

I realized how much I missed sketching. There was a phase in my life when I used to carry my sketchbook everywhere in case I find something to draw.

Then suddenly for no reason I stopped sketching; and lost that sense of satisfaction which used to fill my heart every time I sketched something new. Every new thing I created.

For the past one month I have been spending the a lot of time with my sketch book.

Thanks Saima for referring this book. Because of you I found my Long Lost Passion.

P.S - I have finished reading Inferno a couple of weeks ago. Its definitely one of the best fiction I have ever read.



DOODLING...

Recently I have invested my maximum time only on doodling. I won't say I am going through a writer's block but I am short of my short story stock... 

So here is a recent collection my doodles...





                          











A White Flower


(Source : Internet )

What else do you want in life? A peaceful Sunday with a cup of coffee and a nice book to read sounds great. Add a light drizzle outside your window. Your day is made. That’s a perfect Sunday for me. In the month of February came a Sunday similar to this. When life surprises you with such small cherish able moments even you feel like make others happy. That’s when I thought I should make this Sunday a little special for my mom too. 

For the past couple of months my mom was trying to convince me to clean up my old wardrobe. But I managed to avoid this every time with the same ‘every working women favourite alibi’ – “I am very busy with my office stuff. Give me time and I will definitely do it”.

Finally I was free and in a good mood so headed towards my wardrobe. It was a complete mess. It contained what not- My old projects from school, school badges, few diaries from my school days, my badminton racket (which papa gifted me when I won the inter college badminton championship), all my trophies since school, some from college and university too, few certificates, one of my school tie, some gifts from friends and a book gifted my Mehek on my 22nd birthday. 

I was experirncing the moments that disappeared in some faded corners of time. 

I opened the book. I like the smell of old books. It transports me to another world. The world, I sailed through with the eloquent authors. 

Books also remind me of small incidents happened while reading the book. Like I still remember when I was reading harry potter and the goblet of fire, Kasturi narrated verbatim how Fleur Delacour was introduced in the book. I used to count whenever she did that. I guess more than a dozen times she did that with the same intensity.

Oh I found harry potter and the chamber of secrets on the right shelf. I didn't know I kept this book here. This was and is my favourite of all times. I flipped through the pages and I found something unexpected. A dry white flower. 

I almost forgot this until I saw it. But which one is that?

I was in 7th standard and was a newcomer. The school environment was different for me and there were people who made it more difficult. One of them was Kabir. Reasons are still unknown. He wrote my name with any random guy from class and would enjoy my embarrassment. One day when I couldn't take it any more and tears trickled down my eyes he apologized with a white flower. 

Once when he lost a game of badminton, he pushed me in frustration then realized his mistake and apologized with a white flower. 

On that excursion he accidentally locked me inside a washroom attached to the restaurant. I was found after 20 minutes. I had an asthma attack. Doctor was called and almost an hour later my breathing came back to normal. He apologized with a white flower.

Whichever is that, it surely beholds some of the most torturing experiences of my life. Sometimes you don’t just preserve good memories but the bad ones too.

I kept that flower in the book back. And put all the stuff in the wardrobe again.

When mom asked me why didn't discard anything. “There’s nothing to discard”.

Some Sundays...




Some Sundays swallow sad stressful stretches, stopping slothful sensations.

Some Sundays surface some scattered shapes, sounds, senses: synthesized seamlessly.

Some Sundays speechlessly sew silence; surprising stimulations surrounding self survival.

Some Sundays stir some submerged sentiments sketching sundry sensations.

Some Sundays start stimulating strange sparks, surpassing standardised situations.


(This post is Inspired by #IndiSpire 107

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