Wednesday, December 05, 2007


The landscape is a trapestry of dried yellow grass and brown patches of rocky infertile soil. The only touch of greenery are the weeds that thrive even on these desperate conditions. The sole remains of anything remotely human is the broken shack at the extreme left-hand corner of the picture I am trying to paint. The cracked walls with missing bricks here-n-there complement the torn down roof . The large rectangular voids outside and inside are the reminders that once upon a time there was a door to this house and some windows as well. There should be a broken bath-tub lying outside to depict that someone someday had a nice bath here under the sun.

A twisted tree without any leaves throwing its branches in an angry retort stands against the backdrop of the sky. The dead bark fills up the empty right-hand corner with the mighty emptyness of its presence. What shall we colour the sky ? Dusky Orange ? Murky noonish yellow ? Nah...I'll make it the morning reddish tinge on the light blue background. And there shall be no clouds. Drawing the clouds is making promise of rain and out here the promises have been carried to the grave and whispered by the spirits. Human ears are deaf to such alien pronounciation of dead hopes from the never to be falling raindrops.

To complete my picture and the story there shall be an unceremonious grave at the foot of the dead tree. Engraved on the tomb-stone will be the words "DEJA -VU".

We all have one such picture stored somewhere in our grey cells. What's your picture look like ?