Sunday, 5 February 2012

In search of true love and friendship

A meeting of the minds, is the most important meeting of all.

That one sentence pretty much sums up what I seek in my friends, husband and family.  It is a desire to understand and be understood, to accept and be accepted.  The process is fraught with pain and misunderstanding but it can bring great joy when there is a meeting of minds!

When I meet someone whose wavelength matches mine, the clouds part and the sunshine comes pouring through!  I feel free, as though I have sprouted wings; I can reach out with great energy, because the energy is multiplied many times over and fed right back into me.

My first memory of such a wonderful friend is of Prabha Govindarajan, who worked with me in Godrej.  We shared a common love for the English language and a passion to make a difference at work. She introduced me to "Gitanjali" and I  have been a fan ever since.  Today once again, I remembered Prabha as I  stumbled onto this website, and re-read my favourite poem:

The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. 

The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. 

The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house. 

The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house. 

I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet. 

The poem describes Tagore's great love of God and his eternal striving to meet Him and submit his whole being to Him. 

My longing for true friendship is similar, it is ongoing, never ending and full of hope.

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

Watercolour paintings and I

I've always been interested in drawing.   I used to do reasonably well in the drawing class at school, moving to the first row of seats, know-towing with the teacher and getting compliments from my class-mates.

For some reason, I decided in my fourth standard, to buy myself a watercolour set.  I brought this to the class and sat down to paint.  The memory of what followed is painful and distant :)

I recall this now and smile.  It is the same urge that set off in me again nearly 30 odd years later when I was viewing Sameera's blog. And yet again, decided to take the plunge!

Watercolour painting is like a free flowing rivulet - the brushes of colour are light, playful, transparent and instinctive.  This is in sharp contrast to my own personality - I am more studied, thoughtful and hard working.  A bit like an oil painting or charcoal sketch.  And yet, I am drawn back to the watercolour kit, perhaps it is a desire to break change and be someone else?

Be that as it may, I am excited to be painting again.  When I paint, the rest of the world ceases to exist, I am aware only of the play of colour on paper.  Of the satisfaction of mucking about with water and colour, paper and brushes, pencil and eraser.

Coincidentally, at this very time, my brother Subbu is in St. Croix as part of a large research group. He's  posting photographs of beautiful sunsets on the beach every evening, while trying to avoid the insect bites :)  Doubly inspired, I picked one such sunset as the subject of my first water colour.

The result is what you see here :) a struggle of brush and water, a teaser (hopefully!) of things to come!