The musician

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Once upon a time, there was a musician. With lots of hope, filled with imagination.
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He wanted to make new music – beautiful as a swan But whenever he thought, his mind went blank
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So went into a music shop, but the idea turned out flop. Coz he got a new horn, but he couldn’t make new music – beautiful like a swan.
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He took a bubbly bath, and made lots of bubbles. Bubbles big and small. Yet, he couldn’t make new music – beautiful like a swan.

 

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He heard other’s music and heard them one and all. Still, he couldn’t make his new music sound beautiful like a swan.
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Then an idea struck. He got a haircut Do you think he made a new music – Beautiful like a swan? No! He made a sad face but no music at all!
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So he went for a looo……ng walk into the forest. Next to the stream, over the hills, Where the sun gave earth the good night kiss.
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He found a beautiful leaf, a naughty caterpillar, a colorful butterfly and a pigeon who pooped upon him and flew away. He forgot all about his music – music beautiful as a swan
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He sat under a tree, grew his hair. And slept on some leaves with the caterpillar.
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And then dear fella, When he closed his eyes, his heart opened and out came the music you have ever heard The most lovely song With music so beautiful – just like a swan

 

Hiya,

When the urge to express something intensifies, it becomes art. And it completes when it unites with your emotions. It can be through anything, cooking, painting, photos etc.

I am glad to meet you here. Whatever I’ll post is what I have felt, thought and preserved. It has been my way of expression. You may admire it, hate it or live unaffected, but creating every piece of work has worked wonders for me. I have felt treated …… Content.

Let’s began an infinite journey of emotions riding over drawings and words. Let’s smile and regret, laugh and scream, coz what’s life that hasn’t been felt. There’ll be stories and poems, one liners and paras. Some incomplete scribblings….. Complete in many other ways.

You may find some short stories for children. I dedicate them to my daughter Hiya, who brought to me my childhood back. She loves reading story books and every story, that I have put, has passed through her scanner. I also dedicate the work to my own parents and sister who made my childhood beautiful, my mother who told me stories – of fancy and real and father who left me with beautiful memories. And to London that made me realize how beautiful trees are. My work, in depth, holds the fragrance of my Homeland, and my people.

And yes, thank you dear husband. The windows of our house always opened to a tree. Thank you making it happen and thank you for letting me be me.

“Let language be no barrier coz I  know none, but I have heard the heart beat that makes us one.Grammar is not my forte, I’ll err in every line. But touch your heart, coz I say the truth, you’ll feel not urs but mine.”

If you ever feel like you have seen it somewhere,” Remember! No art is original, but an influence of another…..of nature on music, of music on paper” Though, I have attempted to make the first manifestations, any error shall be the error in my craftsman ship.

Most work is not copyrighted, as I have come to believe in the impossibility of existence of original art but yes as a manifestation of another.However, if you wish to perform the story to your kid as your own you r most welcome. You be tickled back with surprises. Inspire and get inspired. Share the stories and read them in your own comfort.

You know what? A tea or coffee…. may be a glass of wine will be great to have on our way.