Monday, December 31, 2018

the year that was 2018

Early this year, while an icy rain fell from the sky and bare trees stood dreaming of spring, we rushed to the hospital. It was time. Many hours later, a loud cry of protest and a collective intake of breath marked Sid's arrival into our lives. The days and weeks that followed are a blur in my mind. And now, almost a year later those early days seem so far away.  Nothing could have prepared us for the year that was 2018. Thinking back on this wonderful year has me at a loss for words. It will take me some time to articulate, even to myself, what a gift this year has been. Instead I will remember fondly the wise and warm words of friends and family, and the gifts of socks and blankets that came to our door. I will keep that love close to me as the year ends and a new one begins. 
May 2019 bring you much joy.

Saturday, September 1, 2018

opening reception: continuum [degrees of separation]

My exhibition Continuum [Degrees of Separation] at Gallery Beyond opens on September 6 and continues until October 6. The opening reception is on Sep 6 between 6.30 and 9 pm. Details in the exhibition postcard.
Please come for the opening if you are in Mumbai!

Thursday, August 23, 2018

exhibition news: continuum

Exciting news. I am happy to announce that I have two solo exhibitions coming up. Continuum features drawings, paintings and mixed media work across two exhibits - [Degrees of Separation] and [The Illusion of Edges]. The first exhibition, Continuum [Degrees of Separation], opens at Gallery Beyond (Mumbai) on September 6 and will continue until October 6. The second exhibit, Continuum [The Illusion of Edges], will be held at Carroll Community College in Westminster (MD) in Spring 2019. 

I am in Mumbai right now preparing for the show at Gallery Beyond. The opening is just a couple weeks away! Stay tuned for more information.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

snow and steady

The sound of thunder far away
the shell (a curled ear) 
rain begins to fall.

On days like today, when the snow falls steadily, there grows a deep need to immerse myself in the present. The snow falls unhurriedly and covers everything, including that little bump of a twig. The trees sway gently, accepting every snowflake that falls on them. It also makes me think of the heavy rains of Mumbai that can fall for hours at an even pace. Above the rain drenched trees and buildings dark clouds drift lazily. The mind settles, mimicking the steadiness of such sights. One feels connected to the body and its energy, knowing that the snow falls within us and so does the rain.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

these days (and nights)


You yawn
(mouth wide open)
moving clouds
as you exhale.

In the early weeks of January Sandeep and I welcomed our son Siddharth into our lives. Since then it's been a whirlwind of a time with day and night merging into a marathon of feeding, changing diapers and getting baby Sid to sleep. What rises like butter in all this is the beauty Sid brings to our lives. He teaches us to enjoy little things with him, like the play of light and shadow on the wall. His eyes open wide with wonder as he looks at the drama of light and for a moment forgets that he's hungry. He has a little smile as he listens to us talk to him, and he mews much like a cat in response to our questions.

Like his namesake, Siddharth asks us to be alive to the here and now. How could we refuse?