Downpour.......... :)

Its raining again, though its more like the sprinkler you pass by and helplessly get half-wet, wondering… whether to submerge in the feeling or seek warmth.

Feels like you are lying amidst wet grass and every blade is caressing you like a blanket crocheted out of green wool. The soil upholding you through the slumber to keep your dream from breaking.

Or like the red-chested robin who shakes off the water dripping from its feathers and is boisterously perched in the confines of the long trunks covered with moss whose grandeur never fails to render shelter to any creature who flies by, whereby, we become conscious of the beauty of its maple-colored leaves and the moist fragrance its tiny berries decant in the damp surroundings.

In that eerie silence, one can hum with the melodious note composed by the drops trickling from the edges of undulated roofs, leaves that have been converted into make-shift basins with the water collected along their veins, an umbrella that has been just spread for drying by the old man who had rushed to gather some flour for fritters, from the clothes and ear-lobes of kids who had been cheering in mud puddles and the bangles of the women who have wound up daily chores to enjoy the kaleidoscopic view from their balconies, making it more resounding with their chuckles, gossips and hot filter coffee cupped in their palms wrapped with the ends of their wrinkled sarees.

To fill more colors in this variegated backdrop, an army of seven colors mounted on the chariot led by the sun’s seven horses rushes towards the horizon, stealthily sweeping into the azure sky. Crimson reigns and mingles with it to create a perfect blend that carpets the arena, while others get dispersed leaving a sparkling bow on the face of the sky which seems to have experienced the kiss of love. The spectacle enchants the beholders, who like fresh lovers, are stupefied by the sweet nothings, and as they seem to engulf the chant, twilight is born…. giving way to a bewitching night !

An evening at Rangashankara………

It was the evening of November 13, when my long-unfulfilled desire of visiting the hub of expressions, came true !

Rangashankara....a place I had once mentioned in my earlier posts I would like to visit on an occasion and in a company, both of which I wish to find difficult to resist.

And...it happened !

Not to mention of its embracing steps that at once render you a feeling of belonging. The grandeur which entices you as if awaiting your foot-steps, all in service when you arrive there !

The flock you mingle with, once in its premises is a perfect palette of so many colors...you just add one more to it and wouldn’t want to leave it in quest of any more.
Its difficult to resist eavesdropping on a medley of amusing conversations when people are innocently chatting in languages they think are exclusive to themselves, ignorant that how closely those words might be interwoven around the strings of somebody’s heart who just overheard them. Attempting to familiarize with unlike tongues but like minds is theatrical in itself…

The paintings that adorn the walls narrate numerous stories that have been staged in the hall for years now, circumscribed by people from places near and distant, seated beside each other, held by the bonds of destiny.

The cafetaria that is the incubator for new stories to arise and to be staged, unknown to the playwright itself, leave alone the prospective viewers who might come to the same place years later to witness an idea that had been incepted at a fleeting moment they had then belonged to, unaware. Emotions that had traveled seas of thoughts are finally framed as expressions, ready to be dramatized, to be told for the times to come, again and again often becoming the possession of more than one master.

And the enchanted auditorium which has never been short of people under the spell of its magic cast by the performers, even for a single day since it started except for the weekly offs !

The seated viewers are like the rocks lying on the beach unattended, who gather a different form and shape after having been swept away by the waves of laughter, cries, sighs and screams all conveying a different meaning to each one of them.

Hence, goes on the process of Lights, Camera and Action, not visibly though, but meticulously hand-in-hand, making it tough for us to decide when the show began….and even after it has come to a halt, we stay stupefied in the hope that The Show Must Go On !!!

It was a soulful experience to witness the awe-inspiring Arundhati Nag perform a monologue in ‘Bikhre Bimb’ – 'Broken Images', written and directed by the connoisseur Girish Karnad, the plot too richly laden with thought, language and expression to be captured in my words as of now !

So, for now, wait for your turn...till you experience the magic ! :)

The Canvas Of Life Has Many Shades !

The sheets have been removed, the canvas once more revealed, oils are being poured out and the mood of the artist decides which shade gets to mix with another on his palette. The strokes have no form but still define his subject. They have the power to reflect emotions, variably interpreted by the medley of viewers it attracts. Each viewer has his own story when he comes but leaves with a different one, the panorama they just witnessed having a unique impact on each one of them.
The elements in any piece of art speak volumes about the painter’s experiences, the flavors life has offered to him and his perception of the same.
On some occasions, his beautiful creation might seem too whimsical or unrealistic to others to appreciate. The ones whose aesthetic sense has been repainted by the worldly hues fail to be amused by the guileless expression of unbleached beauty.
On others, the depth and intensity that the artist attempts to convey goes unheeded by the shallow eyes of the viewer. Eyes that fail to conceive the boisterous waves of emotions hidden behind the thick layers, each layer adding a new dimension to the ones underneath.
And then there are eyes that get drowned in those colors so deep that they lose their old shades, the ones too faded to persist. This redefines the way the world appears to them and objects that seemed insignificant earlier gain meaning.
Hence, goes on the journey through lands far and wide, woods that are beautiful but lonely, icelands that are cold yet enticing, deserts that are endless and quiet, rivers that are bountiful but salty, castles that are alluring but mysterious and mountains that are rocky but august.
It’s the passer-by who cherry-picks the shades and moves on with his basket of hues leaving behind the rest for the followers to conquer, transforming the picturesque journey we all call ‘life’ !