‘We are all connected’ This has come to mean completely different things In the last fifty years, or wait, not even Maybe twenty, or ten Difficult to say The sense of time is so warped Now that we are all connected   Advertisements

Hope You Dance

What a year it was 2016! One of the notes to self I had made at the end of 2015 was about momentum of simply showing up- in any sphere, whether love, friendships, work, fitness, life goals… reminding myself that things will be better than yesterday every day that one commits to show up. The…

100 Years of Solitude

2016 seems to have been a year of unfinished books. The latest to join the list is 100 years of solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Opening the Box of Sunshine

At the start of 2016, we did something interesting. We created a special box called the ‘Box of Sunshine’ in which we would deposit a descriptive post-it chit every time something good happened to us through the year. Now the year is wrapping up and what better way to celebrate Christmas, I thought, than to…

Gorgeous Wasserfallen this Autumn

It was early November and autumn was all but gone. Along with friends, we wanted to make a final dash to still capture the colours. So we went to Wasserfallen. As autumn was making way for winter, falling leaves for descending fog, and sunny warmth for chilly haze, we stood at the cross-section in awe.

Birthday of the boy

My favourite boy had his birthday earlier this week. Continuing with our preference for making gifts, I took up a slightly challenging one this time. I painted him doing what he loves. Quite happy with how it turned out..

Barcelona, Spain

It was Barcelona this year for our customary October break. And with family over, the highlight was late night conversations, music sessions and cooking together. The city provided a beautiful backdrop..

Winter in Watercolour

A dark-purple walled house, melding with the velvet dark blue of the night sky.. at the end of neat rows of leafless trees. Snow and complete silence on the outside… And inside the windows and doors of the solitary house… what? 


Words.. are my thing. Words are home to me. I visit, of course, other fine and wonderful things that touch my heart and feed my soul. Art, photography, music (oh, music does some magical things…), watching falling leaves on a rain-kissed path, mastering shapes of things in passing of clouds.. what beautiful excursions for my…

Keep walking

Better.. Brighter.. More beautiful is coming. But it depends literally on how well you do with what you have today.     Image clicked at Reigoldswil, Nov ‘16

On Work-Life Balance

Balance is an undeniably noble goal in all areas of life. I’ve been dwelling this morning on work-life balance. Most people bring it up in the context of work interfering with life. In some cases, it is brought up in the context of people we may call workaholics, who find that life interferes with their…

Colmar, France.. The Fairytale Village

A fairytale village, and among my favourite places.. we visited Colmar yet again. We are always eager to take all our dear ones there, and then there are some folks you know actually belong to a world like this.. like my sister. I had been waiting to show her this exotic little village frozen in…

Zermatt, Switzerland

This is one place my husband has been wanting us to go for years now. He’s been wanting to hike up the Gornergrat, to a face to face rendezvous with the Matterhorn peak. In autumn, because it’s breathtaking beautiful then. The way it was when he went several years ago. 


Ever experienced that? Trying to talk to a friend As a train is rushing by so fast That it is a blur And its din drowns out everything That you are trying to say Or your friend is trying to hear And you just wait out for the train to pass by completely and then…

Sketching Autumn

Felt the urge to sketch today, after a long time. I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to sketch, but the colours of autumn were vaguely on my mind, and a box of sketch-pens in my home. Being surely out of practice, I wasn’t sure if I would do justice to a conventional sketch, that…

Voice & Silence

Is it worse To lose your voice Or to lose your silence I wonder as I scramble to hear either Amid the din of cross currents of gibberish Mingling into a senseless static Arrogantly setting itself To a high volume “No, you are not to my taste, senseless static Turn your volume down!” But it cannot…

The Princess of Egypt must die

This is a novelette centered around Princess Arsinoe II of Egypt. She is known in history as a highly political and influential female ruler, her public life marked by calculated plans and schemes for power. None of this is the topic of the book in question. The novelette is concerned with the making of Arsinoe-…

The lived and unlived

When you carry the weight of enough lived lives Outweighed only by the weight of enough unlived ones When you are inhaling deeply, hoping to catch some of the latter in your lungs And exhaling to scatter the dust of the former When the lived and the unlived have stared each other down and fought…


“Are you made of the stars?” he asked She looked down and laughed, at the moonrays twinkling on her satin night-dress

The Artist and The Realist

The realist isn’t the artist’s nemesis. They may seem like opposites, but they are like the yin and yang- seemingly opposing, but actually interdependent. They are not even separate people, the realist and the artist- they are, or rather must be, part of the same person. Isn’t each person the entire ocean in a drop? An…

Jane Eyre

My mother has often mentioned in passing that her father, my grandfather, carried around a copy of Jane Eyre for months- reading small bits, diligently marking quotes or looking up old English words, and fondly carrying the book around everywhere he went.

Relax, nothing’s in control

” What’s the matter?” “I just feel like the world is spinning, and nothing is in my control..” “And?” “And what? It’s irksome..”

Leave the last candle burning

He had expected the day to feel like any other. He wasn’t the sentimental sort himself, but his daughter had insisted. “What do you mean you won’t cut a cake? It is your GOLDEN birthday!” she had said, both her eyes and her mouth in oval shapes of surprised indignation. “I won’t have my birthday…