In a world full of disappointments, the sky is an exception
It’s fascinating how we remember some stories from the past so vividly. One of these has been a small anecdote from class sixth. It was an art class when the teacher asked us if we knew when Tagore started painting. We all made guesses, most of which were between the ages of 10 to 30. Our brains thought what an average mind would have thought – he must have started early or in his teens. But when the teacher announced that he started painting only after 60, we all were unanimously surprised.
Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to view some of Tagore's stunning paintings exhibited at the National Gallery of Modern Art (MoMA) in Delhi. Many of his paintings are either abstract or depict faces conveying a range of emotions, like the dining table in an old restaurant, which tells a story of its own. One look at the table and we know, it has been through many phases. Along with expressions, Tagore also relies on colours (mostly dull) to show what has been going on in his characters' minds.
The same building of art also houses paintings of his nephew Abanindranath Tagore. Although both Tagores were only a decade apart (a not-so-big gap in those days), their works carry a little similarity. While the senior Tagore painted more deep emotions, the junior Tagore found his muse in the traditional style and dedicated his art to the country and its religion and culture. His famous paintings include Bharat Mata, Birth of Krishna, and Victory of Buddha. Among his many works is also a captivating portrait of his uncle, which feels like somebody has mixed the works of the two Tagores.
Mysore is a city of peace. When we keep complaining about roads everywhere, this city has gotten them right. Wide roads with wider canopies of trees laden with green leaves and red flowers – its streets are a site to watch. But there’s more to Mysore than its much-loved and surprisingly clean roads. It is a place where peculiar birds like white peacocks reside, traditions meet modernity, and people find joy in simple foods.
Coming from the north, I didn't know anything about the Mysore Palace or the kings who built it. I thought it would be something similar to the Udaipur palace (maybe because of the similarity of the blue pillars inside). However, what we saw was drastically different.
A few steps inside the palace and we noticed how much importance the Wodeyars gave to open spaces. There are wide grounds and lawns outside the magnificent building and big courtrooms inside the palace. Along with open spaces, the erstwhile rulers and their architects were keen on details. The result – every corner of the palace is designed to perfection. Even if it meant that many items had to be procured from many parts of the world – blue tiles from Italy, dark-brown teakwood from Burma, whiter-than-white marbles from Rajasthan, colourful stained glasses from Italy, and strong cast irons from Scotland. Together, this amalgamation gave shape to a building that houses very different yet complementary architectural designs including Indian, Rajput, Gothic, and Islamic.
During one of my thumb exercise sessions, I came across an article about a peculiar case of selling pineapples. All the business did was scrap off pineapple crowns and then, sold those less-heavy fruits at a discounted price. The benefit was multifold: a) suppliers could save on space and increase profit; b) food wastage got reduced and the scrapped parts got channelised to recycling places centres at the start; c) customers got some discount. A win-win for everyone. But if the idea has been so good, why didn't we do it earlier?
Maybe, this is the thing about good ideas. They feel so simple on the surface that it makes us feel stupid to not try them earlier.
(Some) Kids can bring so much happiness which you did not know existed in you. We met one such kid in our neighbourhood Bangalore darshini. The girl of about four came with her parents and grandma. While the family was enjoying food, the little tornado took it as a mission to get the attention of every single person who was in the eatery. She would run or walk and then slow down her pace to look at you, only to see you melting. And then, she would smile and walk away. The victims were left smiling and pining for more. Once she was done with everyone, she went back to her family – and the trio looked as if they'd decoded what ‘ananda’ is in life. Maybe this is what they mean when they talk about happy families.
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