The Magic Potion

…and then the evil witch handed the painter a bottle filled with the lurid green concoction. “Take this!” she commanded. “It’ll change your life!”

The painter took the bottle cautiously. She opened the lid, sniffed the contents inside and gasped in horror. “This?” she asked incredulously, staggering back and shielding her nose with her hands, “This smells insane! What is it?”

“Freshly caught green frogs and forty day old grasshoppers pureed together” cackled the witch, rubbing her hands in glee.

“Well I can’t eat it then, I’m vegetarian” said the painter, hastily handing back the bottle.

“Listen to me you Arty creature” hissed the witch defiantly, her breath smelling faintly of spring onions, “If it is green it’s vegetarian! One teaspoon of this and you will never go hungry again!” She defiantly thrust the bottle back into the painter’s hands once more.

The painter tentatively dipped her little finger into the green goo, lifted a teeny weeny smidgen of the stuff, licked it and screamed. She clutched her throat, coughed and writhed in agony, “Koff…koff…gaakkkk! This tastes terrible. I think I’m turning green!!!!”

“You are supposed to MIX it with your food!” screeched Evil Witch finally losing her patience. “Just listen to me and DO AS I SAY!”

Shaken and stirred by the screeching witch and the foul smelling chutney, the painter retreated into her kitchen with the bottle. There, she made herself some hot white rice and with trembling hands tentatively stirred a teaspoon of green stuff into the freshly cooked rice.

Then she ate a spoonful.

And it was at that precise moment that her entire life changed forever. For the better.

To learn more about The Magic Potion, click here>>

...from my Weekend

I usually go about my life around this city with an eternal feeling of faint claustrophobia. After my last visit to Lalbagh, I realized it was the lack of open space which brought this stifling feeling on and a once a week visit is a necessity. I went there again last Sunday and simply enjoyed ‘hanging around’ amidst many trees. Here are some pictures.

This is the Seed pod find of the week:

And these are my drawings of some strange, chunky Aussie Seed pods from my ever growing collection:

Here's a pic of these beauties:

I hope you all had as relaxing a weekend as I did :)

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Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there's a field.

 I'll meet you there.

~Rumi

My Dream House

I know I express myself mostly in Black and White and my existing house is a nest of muted shades of burnt orange and dark brown, but I have to admit to you, my ardent blog readers, that this is a sham I have been living till now. Yes! A sham!

I am an Indian, an inhabitant of a vast and chaotic subcontinent. What this means is that  beneath the surface of every Indian, however diverse we are and however sophisticated we seem, there flows in us, red, hot, shiny, glittering Indian blood which carries with it its penchant for loud music, bright jewellery, extra sweet food, gaudy clothes, blaring automobiles and other forms of  exaggerated expressiveness. Suppress it all you want in the name of ‘Westernization’ or ‘being cultured’(whatever that means), but the true Indian form of self expression periodically bursts forth in any one of these varied ways. If you don’t agree, my dear Indian reader, you are in denial! (And you are probably a snob as well).

I was sick and tired I tell you, sick and tired of blog posts which feature yet another samey samey ‘Dream House’ with its cream coloured walls and earthy tiled roofs and shelves of carefully arranged cutey cutey knick knacks. Therefore during a ride outside Bangalore this evening, when I saw this house in its halo of neon hues, I screeched ‘Stop!’ scrambled out and started clicking away. 

This is it! This is my dream house! One day, in the not too distant future, I will build one of these for myself in the heart of the city, in a neighbourhood full of bland white houses and defiantly live within my glorious towering psychedelic concoction.

And finally, my dream house has some gasp worthy neighbours who deserve to be shared here too!

:)

ps (14/7) : While we are still on the subject of colour, if anyone of you wondered what the insides of these houses must be like, to aid your imagination I add here below a picture from the studio of a former college mate. Every single wall in his two storey studio is a different colour. I am not exaggerating one bit and I repeat - every single wall a different colour. Here is a picture of just two of those walls:

~

Sunday

Here are some pictures of an unusual seed pod I found on a Sunday morning walk at Lalbagh.

This one was found closer to home.

Isn't it gorgeous?

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Here are some pics from the walk:

Look at this!

An impromptu installation done by the dada of 1 Shanti Road, above
and the essence of Sunday Benglur below.

Lush tropical stuff

and the rarity of vast empty space.

Outside, at the gates, this man sells a variety of fresh sprouts

Which I make into a salad for lunch. Ah! Simple and healthy.

ps: We also ate a high calorie South Indian breakfast, but it was over before I could say 'click'.
;-)

Drawing Everyday

I felt slightly sheepish after I read that this person here loves drawing and draws everyday. And then there is Pencil Jam goading me. What was I waiting for? So instead of stressing, fretting and being grouchy, I drew. 


The amazing drawings of Javier Mariscal >>

I Shot a Tiger!

Yes! I shot a Tiger. Here’s how I did it –

I filled a large bowl with chopped chicken liver and took it into the jungle. And then I loaded my Black and White bullets and lay in wait as quietly as possible, pretending to read a book. I wasn’t disappointed. Slowly at the far end of the jungle, there was a rustle amid a thick clump of ferns. The fronds parted and a Tiger emerged. She stealthily made her way towards the chicken liver and quick as a flash gobbled it down. Then she lay down, stretched herself and closed her eyes. And that’s when I shot her!

But here is the terrifying part!  

When I least expected it, the Tiger opened her eyes and snaaaarrrrled!

 I scooted from the scene within seconds of being mauled! You see how dangerous it is to shoot Tigers? But I risked it just for you, my dear blog readers. I bravely risked my life and shot a Tiger to bring you yet another adventure under The Plum Tree!

Some sketches

of perennially favourite themes :)

I do apologize for removing the comment section for now. I am simply trying to wean myself away from this tendency to check for comments every 5 minutes of my day ;-P 

You know what I mean!

Between Pages

From Between_pages

From Between_pages

From Between_pages

From Between_pages

From Between_pages

Some more pictures in a slideshow here>>>

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Seeds

My grandmother always carried Cosmos seeds on her person like she did her snuff box. Where ever she went, who ever she met, if there was some earth present in the scene, even in a pot, then the Cosmos seeds were doled out with the same solemnity  used to take a pinch of snuff before it went up the nose – a careful drawing together of the thumb and  forefinger so that just the right amount was gathered between them. When grandmother gave, recipients did as instructed so that plants would shoot up and flowers would splash out their myriad hues of glorious colour.  Thus my grandmother left a trail of colourful Cosmos behind her the way some women leave a whiff of memorable perfume as they drift out of a room.