Out of the shadows, into something darker

I am writing after so long

I am writing after so long.. I feel relieved but also a little scared?… Ohh! I had forgotten the joy of writing!! But what do I write? mmm I would like to write a what is this story going to be about?!hmm well once there was a little girl in a small universe. I say universe because I picture tiny illustration sized black holes and bright big stars where she lives and not at all the crowded streets and concrete buildings and noise of people like it is around us. No… she lived alone, you see. There was no one else she had ever met or seen besides herself. She wandered through the universe among stars, she would go from one nebulae to another, she would stand and gaze at the swirls of colored clouds become stars or she would aimlessly fly around planets and asteroids and such.

As she walked and wondered and smiled and became sad, she wondered why she was sad. Moreover, she wondered if there was something wrong with her sadness, with HER. Now she grew more anxious. For she saw all around there was beauty and wonder but she still felt sad. Once this thought crossed her mind that SHE was not how one (well literally since she was the only one) ought to be… she felt unhappier and unhappier. Well if I am wrong, how could anything I think or come up with be right?! She was afraid now. She suddenly jumped up and ran. She ran and ran till she stopped to look at a huge asteroid belt swirling around a black hole. She watched the jagged rocks fly above, below, past one another, often smashing, colliding, breaking. As she stood watching, her focus moved from the forces in the rocks to the almost slow, rhythmic motion of all those rocks around the hole. She watched as rocks from the periphery took long turns going round and round and round until they reached the center where they vanished. Rocks came near, stayed close for a while then grew apart. Some collided, broke off, went away towards the periphery then again went round and round and round till they reached the center. In all this, it was not known when she fell asleep.

                          (true story)


Feeling a bit hazy

It rained today.

It did yesterday too , but it was different today.

I was different today.

When I stood by the bush leaning on a pole in college today, the leaves swaying in the wind felt cooler, the apartment building against the grey sky somewhat bleaker, the moods of the clouds somehow sadder. And it was beautiful.

When I got off the bus at Gathaghar knowing I’d have to get a lift home, the rain was pounding almost as hard as my heart has been a couple of days. I jumped over puddles brimming with lights from the streets. I turned around as I walked and stopped to watch raindrops storming space above the earth. I stood and watched people seamlessly make and fill spaces in the rain.

Again I have my little book of poems by Rabindranath Tagore on my bed, beside me.

“LOVE! When you come with the burning lamp of pain

in your hand, I can see your face and know you

as bliss.”

It could not be more true.

A silent meeting

Dusk In Koteshwor.When the blue of the sky, the gray of the earth, the gold and the black of people dissolve into darkness. But before the all consuming dark, a unity in deep blue.

As if the sky and the earth are silently meeting, dissolving all distances of  differences, letting us bear witness 

knowing we have no time for fickle things.

Amidst faces of a woman

Its past seven. I get off the tampoo at Koteshwor.I hurry to get on a bus home amidst the usual bustlings of street market, people hurrying to and fro, and vehicles running around like wild animals set free. bUT then I see light fall in fragments on this woman standing on the other side of the cart

fragmenting her.

Something else looks on amidst embellishments.  Maybe nakedness needs no embellishments.

Drawing life from clay



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Made over this semester as part of my class projects.

I remember maybe 6 months ago starting school, being bewildered by  beautiful clay sculptures our seniors made( I still am). Fast forward to now- I LOVE SCULPTURE!


because…it is so complete, even though all art is incomplete.Making a sculpture, all noise quiets down. With each detail carved out, it becomes more and more wonderful to observe. I love it because a sculpture transcends the material it embodies. Of course it is but a symbol, yet it is so powerful it makes the blood cold in my veins ( that too symbolically i think:D. yes. it is beautiful.

Adventures in a museum;)bcos i felt like it

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So… I have a wierd love/hate relationship with photography. I especially HATE taking photos when I have to take photos ( okay, who doesn’t?!). Well anyway, this morning I’m walking around Patan Durbar square with my camera and I see a whole public bus-ish crowd of pigeons, a shot-type old lady selling stuff , et cetera.  I click a litle this and a little that but I’m bored as HELL.

Suddenly! A vision on my right! ‘History of Studio Photography in Nepal’  Ongoing Exhibition in Patan Museum.


Okay aaaannyways, I went in.  I was looking at this large portrait of two women looking somewhere beyond the frame when I felt a longing to be there, in that space between the actual setting of the photograph and the present- I think it is in the aura lent by the lens of a camera, transcending the image from that of two posing people to something more. I don’t know…Well then I felt like all these images are not really of those people from a certain time ago- instead just a different world created by the camera.I felt like I wanted to be with them, these characters of a photographic world. So .


Unhappy children selling happiness
WHOOSH!! into the setting sun
In a country of old men

Medium: Cannon 700D

Time: 5-6 pm

Taken while loitering around Mangalbazaar, the colorful balloons, pigeons flying against the backdrop of the hue created by the setting sun and the old man’s steady glance create the highlights of the photos.

Finding Beauty in Swoyambhu

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IMG_0363IMG_0366IMG_0364IMG_0406Sabriha Kharim is a beautiful young girl who speaks more often with her eyes, sips tea very quietly and manages to pose beautifully for annoying amateur photography students like us even after 30 or so shots! She studies in grade 1 ( but clearly skips school- I met her at the Swoyambhu stupa on Friday, having gone there for a morning photography session from class). 

She lives in the Pakistani galli near Swoyambhu. I remember cringing as  one of the old men humming bhajan rudely told  the children to go away when they were posing for  photos. The prejudice that exists is astounding!

 Furthermore, I cannot help feeling a little guilty for having taken a part of her in these photos; that’s what they are- a portrayal of her innocence and beauty. 




Paper: Chinese cartridge.

Medium: Quill pen and Ink

I made these drawings using quill pen made from peacock feather and home-made ink( the ink and pen I learnt to make as a part of my Art materials and methods class project). I drew them from black and white ( edited) photographs. After dipping in the ink pot, I first drew the darkly shaded parts and slowly sketched out lighter areas as the ink finished in the quill pen.

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