Warm December

Wrapping it all up once again. Two decades and a score. We survived the Apocalypse. We are survivors. Looking back now, the best part of this year was the gypsy eyed girl with the black bandanna that I shared a brief moment with. May you be forever wild. Amen.

Happy Holidays!!

But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep

— Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on A Snowy Evening


Cherry Life

If the orb really cracks up today
 I have no regrets.


Against The Wind

I'm older now but still running
Against the wind

— Bob Seger, Against the Wind


When In Egypt

This is what I drew in my Ancient History class. Now, before you judge, I'm not really proud of what I did in the class either. But tell me this: who doesn't love dancing Egyptians?




You gallantly walk into the room, 
fashionably throw your shadow on the wall, and 
carelessly touch my heart in places I never knew existed. 


Vistas (vol. 2)

So, this is the second volume of sketches that I did during the last couple of days. This time, I decided to pay tribute to some of the old masters, my favorite painters instead. The following are my representation of some of my favorite works by them. I enjoyed a lot working on these sketches. I hope you enjoy them as well. 

The sketches are in the following order:

1. 'Wild Poppies'    - 1873 -  by Claude Monet
2. 'The Skiff'          - 1879 -  by Pierre - Aguste Renoir
3. 'Stonehenge'     - 1836 -  by John Constable
4. 'Starry Night'     - 1889 -  by Vincent van Gogh

P.S. - Once again, please click on picture and maximize for a better viewing experience. Cheers. 



I started a new project yesterday. Creating spaces with simple ingredients - paper, black marker and my imagination gone wild. The following sketches are quite different from my earlier ones but they nevertheless tell stories. I enjoyed working on them. They demanded very little time and gave me much freedom. I hope you like them. 

P.S. - Click on picture and maximize for a better viewing experience. Cheers. 


Love: A History


         Whatever happens in the end, she said, I
         don't want to loose you as my friend. He
         looked into her eyes. I promise I will
         never be your friend, no matter what,
         ever. Her voice cracked. If we fuck, I'm 
         going to feel like shit tomorrow. That's
         OK with me, he said. He lifted her shirt
         over her head. I love you, she said. I
         never hurt you on purpose. He nodded. I
         don't care.

            He would not be going to Italy.

— The Darjeeling Limited, 2007


Brittle Things

Wasted coffee. Dammit. 


November Romance

Eventually, everything becomes a memory. 



And we smell like medicine on paper cups
my blue angel voodoo queen
lover poet.


No Red Rose

"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses,
but in all my garden there is no red rose."

Oscar Wilde



And so at last
we've found each other.
What now?


A Lucid Moment

Psychedelic explosions. Confusion. Colors. A moment of beauty.



So long expected
the slowness of the night's arrival
the torment.


Love at First Sight

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream 
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.

 Ernest Dowson


Violent Dreams

Two people
trapped in a room
waiting for something to explode.


Goodbye Summer Skies

Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
heaven can wait we're only watching the skies

— Alphaville, Forever Young



I sent my love out on a boat.
It capsized. 


High Romance

An endless talk of love,
no real passion.
And under these sad lights,
fever runs high tonight.

Turn around bright eyes.



"Sara, you're the poet in my heart, never change, never stop"

— Stevie Nicks


Little Sara

I drew this one last year, somewhere between March and April. I just wanted to capture her eyes faithfully as possible, took me some time to do it, but everything else was completed in under ten minutes. I'd like to call this an 'unfinished-finished' sketch. 

"Between thought and expression lies a lifetime"

The Velvet Underground, Some Kinda Love



We are never going to win this.
But, if you ever see me
passing by, hold me,


Soft Murmurs, Sunday Morning

"I think about your thighs,” she wrote in the second letter, “and the warm, moist smell of your skin in the morning, and the tiny eyelash in each corner of your eye that I always notice when you first roll over to look at me. I don’t know why you are better and more beautiful than anybody else. I don’t know why your body is something I can’t stop thinking about, why those little flaws and ridges on your back are lovely to me or why the pale soft bottoms of your New Jersey feet that always wore shoes are more poignant than any other feet, but they are. I thought I would have more time to chart your body, to map its poles, its contours and terrains, its inner regions, both temperate and torrid - a whole topography of skin and muscle and bone. I didn’t tell you, but I imagined a lifetime as your cartographer, years of exploration and discovery that would keep changing the look of my map. It would always need to be redrawn and reconfigured to keep up with you. I’m sure I’ve missed things, Bill, or forgotten them, because half the time I’ve been wandering around your body blind drunk with happiness. There are still places I haven’t seen."

 Siri Hustvedt, What I Loved 


The Promises Of A Face

"Let old Plato look on you with an austere eye; 
You earn pardon by the excess of your kisses
And the inexhaustible refinements of your love,
Queen of the sweet empire, pleasant and noble land.
Let old Plato look on you with an austere eye."
—  Charles Baudelaire, Fleurs du mal


On Dewfucked Grass

After a long night of revelry, music and existential conversations.


Sad Lonely Shadows

"(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands."

— E.E. Cummings


A Cold Dark Room

     I think I've seen my share of shit in this world
     The Utopia we all dreamed of just burned and sank.

     My plan now is to listen to my records, drink coffee

     And make empty plans for the future.


Chandigarh: The City of Peace

I took a little trip to Chandigarh a few weeks back. It was an exciting weekend for me, I dropped everything, grabbed my camera and a novel and headed for the nearest bus station and the rest is history.

The month is almost coming to and end and I just wanted to share some pictures with you all. I hope you enjoy them.

It was refreshing to see these ducks come out of the water and mingle with the tourists. 
(That's me, smiling like a mad curious child.)

The following pictures were taken at Rock Garden, Chandigarh.

This was my favorite part of the whole maze of stone. For a moment I felt like I was in Cambodia.

One thing I noticed about this little miniature figures is that all of them have sad, melancholic faces. It's as if they are mourning for all the turmoils in this wretched world. To be honest I felt a little uncomfortable standing alone in the middle with hundreds of them watching me silently.

Figure (male)

Another figure (female)

These last few pictures were taken at a lake (I forgot the name, It stars with 'S'), a few miles away from Rock Garden. It started raining the moment I reached there and I was surprised to find out that the lake had almost dried up! Anyways the weather was nice and breezy and I sat there for a good hour or so just watching the people go by.