Wednesday, 19 April 2017

Attention seeker.

Typing… On my phone with brightness at its peak.

“Being a woman who craves attention time to time, this was the best decision I've ever taken.”

Backspacing. Okay, done. Phew!

It’s not a normal day! Though the time zones are not different, the cities are. The temperature is enjoying its high, giving a hard time to people of Pondicherry. I see men comfortably commuting, running stores and doing their grocery shopping in a piece of check printed cotton cloth wrapped around their waist called lungis. While women here have wrapped sarees of different textures and material on their bodies. And on the other hand, I’m sweating like a pig. Just another pig, in a cotton red and white maxi dress, chose to wear this considering the weather outside. But the locals are clearly not used to this and seems like an alien sight to them and they somehow manage to squeeze out 1 minute of their busy schedules to throw those beautiful death stares I never asked for. My palms are wet, Am I nervous or it’s the heat that’s doing this to me? I walked out of the room, all pumped up to explore the city which was on my “To-do list” last few months, there I go striking it off and doing it all alone. Do I love it already? I don’t know!

I am constantly making mental notes of the narrow lanes, shops close by to my hotel in case I’m lost. The urge to put up a status about the situation is increasing as I walk down to the main road filled with noises my city makes. Or a picture of me in this unknown city, which is supposed to be my home for a few days but don’t feel like one. I don’t wish to talk about my whereabouts to anyone; it's liberating and a beautiful feeling to be enough for you. I almost waited forever for this day to happen. Do I love it already? I don't know! I wonder if anyone out of my near and dear ones can feel my absence. It’s just 7 hours that I’m away and already demanding so much validation? Tch tch. Not right, woman. What happened to the promise you made to yourself about being a low-key traveler? What is this obsession about telling people where you are?  Why can you not live in the moment and follow the literary that you prepared this morning on the way to the airport? Why can you not control your thoughts anymore? Just get rid of that phone for once and for all, only then you will see the beauty it holds.

And 10 minutes later, I put up a check in and a status saying “It’s a beautiful day” with a sun emoticon.

The internet demon dancing on my shoulders won, once again.



French Colony

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

Undone masterpiece

To every undone artwork, your very presence makes me feel good. Though the picture created in my mind palace isn’t even close enough, there is no sadness building up in me and I'm quite surprised. Though the colours were brighter and the edges were better defined, this still gives me immense pleasure.  I shouldn’t have been satisfied by the way it looks like because I am an artist and I am supposed to be passionate enough to complete it?
But today, I’ve got no regrets creating you, not even a bit, not at all. For your existence reminds me how flawed humans are. Reminds me how beautiful, chaos is.
I treasure you, just the way people safe keep their jewels. Also, I need not punish me for not being committed enough. I promise, I’ll not question my caliber to create wonderful art because the idea once born in my head is no more alive.
I’ll definitely not let unfinished artwork break the confidence that took me way longer to build up than it took to put my little idea on the canvas. I’ll be kinder and patient with myself for we are only humans.

-Vaishnavi L.

Monday, 14 November 2016

House

You see, your heart can misguide you to the lane you didn’t wish to pay a visit.

And that’s where her heart resides, with tough walls efficiently made to fight every hurricane. 

Your eyes might fool you for how fancy her house may seem; it’s completely wrecked, trust me!

And the day she forgets to lock the doors, you gently sneak in and see her broken house.

Walk upstairs to her room, where she pens down every memory she had with you.

And when you walk in her room, you’ll find sorrow wrapped in glitter gracefully lying on the shelves.

Go grab the pillow; he’ll narrate stories of her heartbreak that were left unsaid. 

She’s peeping in to see if those tales interest you, for she can find no escape to get away. 

Now that you heard her fairytale, embrace her and run away, the house is only an illusion she’s been living in every day.





                                              -Vaishnavi L. 

Sunday, 23 October 2016

To, My favourite coffee shop

As much as I adore low-key dates, I have a special place in my heart for fairy lights, pretty wallpapers, and antique furniture.
The coffee we sip may be making holes in our pockets as we struggle to sort our daily groceries, but I believe things will fall in place and someday we shall serve ourselves a three-course meal.
Now that we may seem a little drifted away from our latte cream, let the coffee aroma sink in our skin and we could reminisce the best advice we shared with each other about love, the dark stories we shared over our espresso and the long hours of boredom we killed over a frappe. It makes me nostalgic, how we started over a crappy cup of coffee and how beautifully we have evolved ever since.
This part makes me the happiest, how the paid coffees taught me about friendship from a new point of view. It always has its presence in every conversation we had, it’s a blessing in disguise, a steaming listener and it may come with a cost but it gives you its companionship for free. And how we managed to steal few extra minutes to wander in someone's eyes, or a touch to linger a little longer and how every time I walked out of the cafe, I only got richer.
                                                                                                     
                                                                                                     Love,
                                                                                                     Vaishnavi 

Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Peace is a luxury to me.

I pray to the gods that never existed for me,
pray to the evil to wake up and see.
To see how games can wreck and bleed.

I pray for the little eyes that are yet to see,
How infectious dust of agony is.

I pray for the ones in flesh and the ones that left, to grant them a luxury of peace.
Hoping to be attained in some life for free.

I pray for cleaner hands and clearer skin,
the bullets have left deep scares on them.
Can't you see marks tattooed all over me?

I pray to mother earth to be who she is.
Stronger than ever and not give up on me.
We are silly humans; forgive us for what we try to be. 

Thursday, 3 September 2015

Your smile won't be the only wrinkle

Picture source: Internet

The skin you’ve been proud of will fade.
The flesh you walk in will kiss the ground.
Eyes will lose its luster and lips will be dried,
speaking of beautiful stories hard to remind.
Your feet will be hard as it has traveled hard roads;
sound of your soft feet no more had an impact.
Your smile won’t be the only wrinkle, think you can flee from that?
We are mere humans with no super powers involved.
Had the remote been in our hands,
the movie would have been paused decades back.
All I wish for is to crawl back to my childhood,
where eyes sparkled with innocence, where people were better,
where beauty was just not number and a face.


Tuesday, 23 June 2015

I SELL MY ART, NOT MY HEART.

We often eyewitness although movies being the best source, The man juggling 7 red balls or the lady strumming her guitar strings on Taylor swift’s tune or paintings put for sale of a popular monument and if at all lucky a street play or an energetic flash mob. Lost in my own zone, I tend to miss out on appreciating them. On contrary there are days where all sense lit up. The freshly watered lilacs mixed with the air are inhaled and the warm summer breeze tangling my already messed up hair.
Strolling casually and clicking a bundle of memories at the national monument, a pride for the Malaysian’s. The world’s tallest free standing bronze sculpture in the honour of the brave martyrs.

Some places activate the curiosity in you and next you happen to walk up to the person ready to shoot some questions. Spotting the man in pink shirt with shoulder length hair partially grey busy with his eyes fixed on a white sheet, putting his art on the paper. I walked up to him with a broad smile giving him false hopes about being his next customer. I quietly examined his mini art exhibition showing lakes, woods, a kid with a yellow balloon on a busy street and known monuments.
I asked my first question on the pen he was using for the art that he was working on and he replied in a calm voice saying “0.10 mm”. His voice was an open invitation for my next few questions.
I waited no more and invaded his privacy by asking what his daily inspiration is. The same smile fixed on his face and now I observed the under eye bags and rugged skin denoting he has been incautious about his health and skin. The grey locks were more than it appeared from a distance. The answer took a long more than usual which put me into a dilemma if the question could be framed more politely avoiding the awkward stare. ”I only sell art, not my story” said the man leaving me in an awe of surprise. Putting a full stop to my curiosity and awakening the sleeping philosophical lady in me. He happily let me click his picture where he posed with his sketch. Walking back to the car I noted down the wisdom learnt from a single statement.

Getting to the point without the unwanted blabbering, not being an open book when not needed, plastering a happy frown to not disappoint the clients and what touched me is not selling his heart with the art. The man wasn’t cold hearted or rude but such locals leave an impact what the great ones couldn’t. Their words are not powerful enough to be written on stones but prove to be an advice they gained from the roads they have walked and experience they have faced. Walking half-heartedly and storing the questions for a new human who could add to my diary of life. I looked up and sun beaming with its rays of hope, I knew it was all right and time to come across another story.