Dragon Gate

Koi Fish

Acrylic on Canvas
36" x 24" x 1.5"

A few months ago, I came across some fantastic Koi paintings, tattoo designs and artworks while surfing online. Koi, the Japanese name for carp, is a hardy species of fish that can survive and adapt to varied environments. China introduced the common carp to Japan some 600 years ago. Japan bred them for color in the 1820’s. The humble carp was transformed into the magnificently colorful, ornamental aquarium and pond fish. Koi was showcased to the world the very first time in 1914 at an exhibition in Tokyo. 

As with all things beautiful, stories and legends must follow. According to Japanese (or maybe its Chinese) legend  - a Koi fish swam upstream in the Yellow River, against all odds and succeeded in climbing the water fall at a point called Dragon Gate. As the fish jumped over the rise, it transformed into a majestic Dragon! 

Koi fish do swim upstream. Chinese believe they symbolizes nonconformist and independent thought in a person. Something like not going with the flow! Based on similar lines, is the thought that it symbolizes strength, aspiration, determination, achievement, ambition and perseverance towards one's goals. In Feng Shui, it is the symbol of wealth and prosperity, especially as the beautiful Koi transforms into the powerful Dragon. One of the more sought after decorative pieces is that of twin golden carp swimming atop gold coins. Its considered supremely lucky! Strangely enough or maybe by design,  The Chinese character for Carp is phonetically identical (apart from a difference in tone) to the character for advantage, and the character for fish is the same as that for abundance and wealth.  

This was my first Koi painting and since then, I've only gotten worse for trying. Currently on a break from painting Koi, I do plan to return some day soon to reattempt crossing my Dragon Gate... 

Entwined

Entwined
Oil on Paper

Entwined was painted over 12 years ago. I was still in my teens, trying to piece together the world and make sense of it all. I can’t say for sure what inspired this painting... I was probably exploring the nature of the man-woman relationship. Trying to find something more than the obvious of jobs, bringing up kids and paying the bills. Shared responsibility is great but is that all it works out to?

The titillating freshness of romance in the initial stages gives way to the comfort of companionship in a few years. But sooner or later, everything seems to be over-shadowed by responsibilities, monotonous routines and predictability. I probably painted what I saw. A couple resting after a long day’s haul of working, shopping, cooking, feeding, driving, worrying, fussing, nurturing and pampering their family.

When day breaks tomorrow, they will be up with the first rays of the sun; revived and ready to take on a new day. Over time, their roots will dig deeper into the warm soil and build a strong and secure foundation. Their arms will spread and branch out. There will be children, pets, friends and relatives. There’ll be occasions to celebrate, victories to rejoice, disappointments to contemplate, change of seasons and fortune, quite moments, loud moments, anger, frustration, love and forgiveness, whims and indulgences, thoughts and opinions, tears and laughter... Through it all, they’ll be together, entwined as they intended to be in their wedding vow. Living the destiny they had unknowingly created in the enchanted days of whispering sweet nothings. 
  

Everyday Is A Winding Road

Saved by the Headlights!

Oil on Paper

I love to getaway.... just pack my bags and go. But not all my impromptu jaunts go well. Like the time my mom tried talking me out of going to Gandhi Nagar during the floods in mid-1997. I was 19, impulsive and stubborn.

Gujarat had received more than half of its entire quota of rains in just 7 days resulting in heavy floods and water-logging. The State Government’s relief and rescue operations were taking place on a war footing with 1,500 army men and 6 Indian Air Force helicopters assisting the local authorities in evacuation. Media reports said that the helicopters had been airborne for about 50 hours and did 60 sorties dropping 23 tonnes of food packets, others essentials and carrying people to safety. Authorities claimed that nearly 50,000 people had been evacuated in the past 7 days.  

On the day I chose to travel, the death toll had crossed the dreaded 100 mark while another 25 people were suspected missing. Electricity and communication lines were down. Trains and airlines had temporarily stalled their services to the region. I managed to locate the one and only bus leaving for Ahmadabad from Dhaula Kuan, New Delhi that afternoon. And to my utter surprise and amusement, I wasn’t going alone.  Amongst the 23 passengers lined up to board the bus, was my friend and room-mate. I’ve no clue why she followed me into this madness... Leo’s and their warped sense of loyalty, I guessed!

The 24 hour journey stretched into 30 plus hours. The incessant rain, ominous clouds, thunder claps and the strong wind knocking on our deceptively fragile glass windows finally drove in the realization – this time I’d bitten off more than I could chew. To top it all – I was responsible for my friend’s safety. I wondered what my mom must have felt watching me board the last bus to Ahmadabad... The highway was free of traffic. Not a soul in sight for miles, only the trees creaking, bending and swaying wildly punctuated the eerie monotony of the ride. Abandoned and disheveled trucks, buses, jeeps, vans and cars lined both sides of the dark highway. Our food ration consisted of a few puffed up packets of wafers – with no dhabbas in sight and 2 bottles of water that didn’t last all that long, we drifted in and out of sleep for most of the journey. The atmosphere was somber and deathly quiet intercepted at intervals by the embarrassingly loud noise of a passenger unwrapping food, followed by self conscious chewing in slow motion. 

We arrived in Ahmadabad past midnight and except for the issue of wading in thigh-high cold water and going hungry that night, the rest of my trip turned out to be worth all the trouble and heart ache. It was actually fun! I headed to Gandhi Nagar the next morning and stayed on for a week. I spent my week wading the waterways to and fro my hostel and design school, packing up all my stuff to take back to Delhi with me. Said my goodbyes to the dhobi, canteen’s maharaj, juice and Amlette center, Pau Bhaji walla, Rajshree theatre at the celebrated Sector 21, my faculty, classmates, seniors and neighbors and so on. I was going to start my next term back in Delhi and there would not be a reason ever to come back to this quaint and supremely friendly township in Gujarat.

The painting here is one from my days in Gandhi Nagar. It’s called “ Saved by the Headlights!” for lack of humor and creativity in the face of peril. This is a sordid incident which took place on the Gandhi Nagar and Ahmadabad Highway but hey, I’ve survived both and much more and lived to tell the tale... that's what I chose to celebrate in this painting. Everyday is a winding road and it's all good. 

Painting demystified: it’s a highway, lined with trees on both sides and the stark glare of the headlights cutting through the night fog and thick undergrowth. 

Long Bonds

The Drinking Buddies

Oil on Paper

“ I know there’s something terribly wrong with her. I can feel it. But should I call?!” my friend confided over drinks one evening. The story goes, he’d been dating the woman of his dreams for seven long years and then somehow things didn’t work out. It was a long distance relationship across continents. But probably or precisely because of that, he’d developed this keen instinctive sense of knowing when she needed him the most - irrespective of the expanse of land and water and time zones separating the two. Was it ESP, were they somehow connected, how did he always know? A few days later, as it turned out, he was correct. She’d been ill for a week and had to be hospitalized. He had decided against calling her but it just so happened that her sister called him and shared the news... and now she’s well, of course.

Their friends used to call them the drinking buddies ( quite self-explanatory, I presume) and this painting is inspired by the special connection these two shared and still seem to do till date.

The conversation did upset me. It’s painful to see people in pain. So as I sat around playing with paints that night, I came up with a theory, if nothing else, at least it would help me sleep in peace. The theory goes - that once you love someone ( irrespective of the relationship and outcome), there’s a part of you that forever protects them...thus the womb in the center. The concentric reds, yellows and oranges are the levels of love, trust and protection you share... Running into the greens and blues which are the individual lives we continue to live. 

They were technically wine drinking buddies but at 2.00 am, I figured a beer bottle was just semantics. 

A Table for 4

The Courtyard
Acrylic on Canvas
36" x 24" x 1.5"

With some friends, specially the ones you meet quite often, communication reaches an all time high of coded ease. Sentences, queries, explanations, opinions are expressed through nods, smiles, grins, grunts, a look, a prolonged look, a quick glance, a twitch of the nose, non-intentional or intentional rolling of the eyes, raised eyebrows and even restless fingers drumming on the table or fussing abstractly with the cutlery... This is perhaps the language of friendship and comfort.

After a long day at work, talking to clients on the phone, conversing with colleagues, answering mails and then catching up with my friends and family over the phone,  I do appreciate the simplicity of these totally comprehendible dinner conversations. I love the freedom to drift in and out of the conversation or just sit back and watch the starry ensemble up ahead. Play with the dancing shadows of the candle placed between us or watch the light fall in tiny star shapes across their expressive faces as they continue to chat about the latest IPL score or market situation.

This painting is for my friends at our table at Courtyard. As I see it and feel it - our corner table glows in the warmth of our ease and comfort with one another. The endless games of "never ever" and "truth or dare", mindless jabber, leg pulling, easy patches of silence and for me specifically  - star gazing at Courtyard have been some of my most beautiful evenings ever. Thank you for the warmth my friends!

Until unless you stay on Godbunder road, chances are, you would not know about this little patch of heaven on earth. The Courtyard is just that – a courtyard. To begin with, it’s located on the Godbunder Road. The only landmark I can think of is  - it’s a little ahead of Blue Roof. Luckily Blue Roof has a map! http://www.blueroofclub.com/blueroofclub-locationmap.html
Courtyard is somewhere between Blue Roof and the Temple as shown in the map.

That settled, you can drive into the Courtyard and park – it can accommodate only 6-8 cars at a time but there is an open field beyond, which is, well, open ... so you’re sure to get parking space there. Once you enter the area, it basically looks like a garden with pathways and low garden lights with a square lotus and fish pond and a wooden performance structure in the center of the complex. The garden is big and the crisscrossing pathway intercepted with tress and lights. The night sky is unusually star studded. Probably because it’s so far from the city and there’s nothing else for miles to steal the thunder. The food is good and very reasonably priced! I recommend the mutton keema with pao. The service is slow but then anyone in a hurry might as well avoid the Courtyard. The place is designed to soothe the soul and relax. There is live music on most days. Indian classical numbers played on request regularly. 
   

Weekend Wisdom

Fire Within
Acrylic on Canvas
36" x 24" x 1.5"

On a Friday evening late last year,  friends and I headed out to Pune for the weekend.  Our first stop - Yellow Chilli “exotic yet authentic like a yellow chili!” A restaurant chain started by the known Chef’  - Sanjeev Kapoor was said to be a “causal dining restaurant with a five-star feel...” (source:  http://www.sanjeevkapoor.com/RestaurantsYellochlli.aspx?MenuId=37&ParentMenuId=10)

The variety and quality of food at YC had all of us grinning and gobbling in happy silence and the ambience was seriously nice. We sat in the open-air section under the shade of tall trees that were lit up with tiny bulbs and looking pretty indeed. The indoors section was completely taken over by dining families. They were loud but not annoyingly so. Seemed like everyone was happy to be here.

Post dinner, we drove around Koregaon Park in search of The Nameless Place and finally arrived at this white massive mansion with beautiful lawns and gardens, complete with lotus ponds and walkways and no name - which did solve the mystery of why no one seemed to know the name of this place. Guess they wanted to keep it exclusive to the point of excluding people from staying there. There were plenty of rooms available (we now knew why) and thus had the pick of our rooms. That settled, I took the opportunity to wander around the massive mansion exploring secret gardens tucked away in it’s massive white folds. The place was peaceful and the non-oppressive silence sort of filtered down the roofs and soaked into the bed. All very well, but I wanted to go clubbing and we did. 

It’s only later that night or maybe the next day I felt the urge to paint again. The Fire Within is my way of holding on and  re- experiencing  the  simplicity of that weekend , the chance to unwind, re-charge...  A packed yet carefree weekend,  born of an impulse to go for a long drive, listen to music and feel the wind in my face... The dinner and the dancing, walking barefoot in the dew-wet grass and resisting the urge to sleep even in the wee hours of pre-dawn. The walk to the German Bakery on that glorious Saturday morning, we were accompanied by background music floating from the Osho Ashram. Tall trees, clean air, old heritage bungalows lovingly cared for, cheerful and spunky Labrador puppies, fresh baked bread, hot and peppered  mashed potatoes, baked omelet, a tall glass of coffee, conversations and rustling newspapers, old worn-out wooden benches under thatched roofs of the German Bakery..... And thousands of minutes to admire, to soak in all these things.