A promise too soon = a regret that lasts too long. Some may have consequences not so serious, some repercussions cause grave pain. Mine was simple. Simply put, it began with an over-zealous encouragement for my singing-talent-box friend, carried away I heard myself saying “I promise to flash at your first gig.” (I should learn to stop while I can… :/)
To my embarrassment, this turned out to be a mini art festival of sorts… Like a mini Kala-Ghoda Festival. (To all who don’t know, Kala Ghoda Art Festival is a multi-cultural festival of sorts celebrating all literary and performing arts for a whole of nine days in South Mumbai, India. http://www.kalaghodaassociation.com/ for more info. ) So, the suburban equivalent with enough space to walk, and peace to explore, was quite a refresher for an over-worked mind –> Wassup Andheri (https://www.facebook.com/wassupandheri). And to flash my assets there… in broad daylight, evening light, whatever! No way! I felt a nudge, “but… (the ever eternal pout and emotional blackmail!) YOU PROMISED!” (Damn those puppy eyes!)
While I did go armed, with a bright scarlet bra, but thankfully… the gig didn’t happen, I saved myself that one time. *Phew!*
Amongst performances which didn’t reach the stage, and the ones which didn’t spark my attention, (also I was there for only a few hours of the 3-day long festival) was a very appealing mix of art, style, and fashion – the bazaar of new artists and brands showcasing their very compelling creativity. Read on for just a small glimpse of what I caught there.
An ode to Art
A colorful celebration of natural lotus leaves dyed in organic hues to create this beautiful piece of art. The age of the leaves determine the intensity of the color soaked by them; the older the leaves, the lighter the color. (Or vice-versa. Can’t remember, I was going through trauma of the thought of my Indian parents flipping out when the see/hear/know of my flashing. “Naak kalaa kar aayi, I heard the voice in my head.) :p
This intriguing piece was showcased by Confluence Elite – The Concept Store. (www.cedpl.com)
An ode to the King
Artist Chandrakant Ganacharya creates portraits using wooden rods, following the concept of pixels. Never imagined an interpretation of the digital pixels could be like this; I was in awe of how he “extruded the pixel’s level along with the appropriate use of colour composition for the best resolution”. Want to try simple shapes myself, let’s see how that would go. 🙂
An Ode to the Woman:
“The installation represents immense latent power that women possess. She is the cradle of birth and source from which environment draws energy for sustenance of life on Earth.” – 24 year old artist, Avantika Mathur. Loved the thought. Not so much of a bra-burning feminist (I like being held up nicely), I quite loved the concept, the manifestation, and the sick person by my side added, “nice butt”… So, yeah… that too! :p
And Yay! Several exhibits to suit my wannabe fashionista senses:
Some worth a special mention:
A part of the raging pop-art culture, it manages to strike a connection with its quirky designs with the desi tadka. Didn’t catch too many pictures here. (Yes, my stupid phone gave up on me. But, hey! links available for you to explore. :p )
A wave of colors hits you with their range of digital print cushion covers, bags, wallets, and my favourite of them all, the coasters. Pssst: I love the Super Drunk one. :p
Fluke Design Company:
These guys were seriously out of the box. The bright colors and quirky designs followed, but what added to the awesomeness were the crazy magazine holders, lamp shades, kettles, mirrors, and other decor items. Fluke or not, they sure were getting it right.
Also, had to share this – The Averagers. Had me in splits. 🙂
And… About my flashing… No pictures will be posted when I finally do it. And YES, I should stop myself from committing to such promises. 🙂
You often feel complete when you have felt physically exhausted and mentally inspired, all in a day’s work – a feeling of ‘glee’ in the head as you look forward to a better tomorrow and savor each of what you had today. Content for the day; you know what I mean?
Similar feeling happened a week ago… D.J. (my bestie ❤ ) invited me to an Atul Kasbekar’s photography exhibition from his shoot in Melbourne, Australia. For my newly ventured blogging space, this seemed like quite an opportunity, but I was in for a total upheaval of expectations. In a good way, of course. *GOOOOD, and how!*
What I expected was:
Hmmm… Fashion photography… Semi-nude models set as accessories to only accentuate the pristine beauty of the ambiances around them. Purrrfect!
What I got was even more pleasing to my sensibilities (read: sensible buds):
Melbourne, titled the ‘Most Livable City’, twice in a row, known to serve all four seasons in a single day, summed up an entire world for me. Rearing to live like a vagabond, I felt a thud in my heart, not a just a beat. I slowly started getting consumed by each of the pictures, “frozen memories”, and imagined myself there, creating my story.
Capturing some of the photographs of the event here:
(And whole many more, which can’t be published yet, for reasons so unfortunate… so unfortunate that I don’t have a calling device anymore. But, as soon as my Nexus is back, with all the pictures, hopefully, we will add more. Pls do be patient in this time of crisis. )
It almost seems like a visit to Melbourne. Almost.
Atul Kasbekar said (more or less), “We are all empowered with tools of capturing moments and freezing them into memories. The only thing that separates us is THAT 1/20th or 1/50th of the second; THAT frame when I choose to hit the shutter button, which is different than yours. These are MY Melbourne Moments, go on and create yours.”
Drained from the long commute and fueled by a desire to turn the “wanderlust” inked on my ankle into reality, Melbourne, Victoria gets added to my bucket list. :p
Until next time, let’s see if you have created some of your moments or not.
(Before I begin this post, I know I have been random with my posting, and I know you are not expecting my blog post right now, or I’m not around when you ARE expecting it; but this adds for a little human-touch, surprising and unpredictable. Also, because I haven’t fixed on a schedule yet! :p But, once my slow self gets the hang of things…)
Women – the poise, the swag, the breasts, the ass –> a specimen, a creation; of pure ecstasy, for ecstasy, by ecstasy! And then the city folklore – women aware of their sexuality and also of the whole lot of prying eyes which regard her as a sex object.
“Hey, How YOU Doing?” is said, and “How I know she will be hot and wild in bed!” is thought.
Damn right, the woman is aware. Her cognition took that comment and placed it in the “Whateverrrrr! 🙂 *blushes*” band of her head, also dependent on how hot the guy is. 🙂
Sexual needs now are shared by the fairer and darker sex equally (No, I’m not a sexist. I love the dusky women myself. Too HAWWWTTT! But this phrase sometimes adds enough literary space for damage and repair both.) Sexuality is out in the open.
No taboo. No hush-hush. It’s okay because it is natural.
Spirits for the soul – They allow for a hearty laugh with good friends. They have become conversation creators, stirrers, and create mockery-of-self-ers, all in good spirit. Yes!
But as women grew more conscious and yet more comfortable, most men were left bewildered and stumped. This also usurped an urge to lay a seemingly powerful woman and make her squeal and scream. They somehow see it as a “RED LIGHT” alert!
In steps, the same moves follow- almost like a rule book –
- Stroke hair
- Hold Hand
- Stroke Hand
- Stroke ear under the pretext of hair
- And then a grab of the head for the forceful kiss
(of course, the woman is going to kiss every prick back, because thou are God! 😐 )
But in spite of her outspoken sexuality, women are still women, they still hope that each such extension or show of “affection” actually means more. The woman looks for more. (In most cases; and I’m not saying that it is wrong to go for steamy hot sex either. It’s just honest mutual understanding of what you’re signing up for!)
What does a woman do? Stop? Kiss him back? Or change her own way of life? It depends on how you feel for the bloke. But definitely not to change your way. Don’t change your demeanor for a misdemeanor. Don’t let an @$$#0|^ with a D|@< for a head make you feel like the slutty one.
You Are Sexy and You Know It. But He Will NOT Jack Off To It.
“I wanna give to life the man that I am…”
This is something I wrote in my dark days, the dark ways coming through. Hurt, cynical, and obviously, had lost faith in all-whole (temporarily, of course)… Read on, and I will reveal more. 🙂
“As I fly high with my arms wide open and shield the world under my wings, my docile self learns that his arms are being bent to his chest, a rose nestled in his grip; and being reduced to the very bone, the same world feeds on what remains of him!”
I had a distinct image of a man in his coffin, holding a rose, and that image kept hitting me back. This man was remorseful, remorseful of the good he did, he didn’t seek appreciation for it all, but he didn’t expect a throw-down from his beneficiaries.
Now when I look back at that time, I don’t feel so strongly regretful. I feel ‘that-too-had-to-pass’ kind of a feeling. It made me stronger. But, that moment was just this. This guilt of the right. And one day, I wish to sketch the exact image I saw. That man, faceless, yet with eyes that hurt and cried. His body that lay still, yet the grip was so tight, as if it was holding back it’s emotions.
And as I share, I will smile. And I will emerge victorious, as I get over it. The victory over defeat. Forgive and Forget. Move On. Will you? 🙂
Ever seen two strikingly disparate yet strong images of victory and defeat, each so magnificent, you can’t tell which side your heart bends?
Why is it that a story of the protagonist receive less adulation than the spineless antagonist? Why is it that the tortuous struggle of a hero seem uninspiring as compared to the calculated manipulations of the spirit and ego?
Appreciation of a defeat becomes easier than appreciation of a victory. A loss seems grand, relate-able. A victory seems unbelievable, ordinary or not. An image of man that reaches excellence is from another world, unachievable. But a fall-back is an every-day occurrence. 😐
I sometimes wonder why is it that you are taught to follow your dreams in theory, but in reality, they are only questioned. Your own faith starts to dwindle. My worry is: are we listening to the right people; are we questioning our own dreams by simply letting THEM question at all?
The answers to all are not always here, but the mere existence of questions is an indication that a change has begun.
I have begun to change, or maybe begun to even cause one. My admiration of a hero, or the acceptance of a nobody’s failure will decide my actions.
I have made my choice – a triumphant hymn, not a requiem. Have you made yours?
Coming from a compulsive hoarder like me, this seems out of ordinary, out of line, and wayyy out of the zone of all things believable; yet I say LESS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.
As I ransacked my cabinets and drawers in a bid to turn them around, I found my unused, unabused, packed, unattacked stack of goods which didn’t live the life they were set out to.
I own 4 pairs of flat black boots and a pair of black Converse, and these are just black. I wear only 1 pair for months on end, and let the others rot. Awesome boots – down the drain. 😦 Less > Enough.
I took the whole cake for myself, when I only wanted a small portion. Unwanted calories, only make my fight against gravity even tougher.
So, #NoteToSelf, let go of that silly voice in your head. What you don’t have is probably also what you don’t need. The silly little voice will remain little,it will make you scream, cry, hound you like the devil inside. Those are withdrawal symptoms, child. No, put that second chocolate down. Yes, and return that pink pen.
Less is indeed more than enough.