Summer bloom 6

Gulmohar (Royal poinciana)

Summer Bloom 2

The brighter the Sun, the brighter is the fuscia. Colour intensifying with the intensity of the Sun as if sunlight flows in the veins of the bougainvillea.

Summer 5

Let's escape to a place where the water hasn't yet evaporated from the ponds, lakes and rivers.
Where bare feet can still walk on dew covered blades of grass in the mornings.

Let's go to a place where chirping birds are the only alarms in the mornings​.
Where silence wakes you up as sunlight peeping through the curtains.

Let's escape to that place where peacocks scream and dance to forecast the weather.
 Where ants predict if the rain is approaching working untethered.

 Let's go to the place where flora blooms announcing the temperature of the day.
Where sunflowers tilt towards the Sun till May.

Let's escape to a place where time is told by the length of the shadows.
Where meal times dictated by commotion at the gate by the stray dogs, going to and fro.

Let's go to a place where sparrows still exist due to lack of telephone towers.
Where people keep bird feed in bowls outside their homes with water.

Let's go to that place where people converse sitting together and not "Chat".
Where people connect through emotions and not internet.

Let's escape to the place where "web" means spiders catching dew drops like diamonds.
Where "net" means fishermen trying to catch fish near islands.

To a place where the breeze is still cool at five in the morning.
Where you wait for the day to unfold with great longing.

The first Summer rain.

Scorching Sun dries and makes brittle the leaves, Earth starts cracking up like honeycomb.
Birds fly high and low to find  just a few drops of water to quench their thirst. Stray animals find shade under the trees and in  abandoned half built houses. People  try to stay indoors to be safe from the brutal heat.

...and then the clouds are summoned,  vast expanse of sky turns grey, air turns cool, wind picks up speed. Dust swirls make small whirlwinds with dried leaves. The wind chimes start tinkling rhythmically,  trees start swaying to the music of dust filled breeze, eyes are turned towards the sky, in anticipation of that first drop.

...and when the first  drops fall and hit the dried earth, the smell of wet earth intoxicates the senses like thousand  sirens. The drops turn to a gentle shower, a drizzle. Sky makes noise to declare freedom from heat, lightning is like celebration of nature. Dust settles, plants get a well deserved wash. The roads start shining. Dogs in the neighbourhood start barking, going round and round in circles with their tongues sticking out.

People come out of the homes for no reason at all, conversations start budding. Children start dancing, screaming, getting wet, soaked, drenched. Grown ups also stretch their arms to feel the rain on their palms as if they have never touched water before.

The first shower of summer is like magic, magic which leaves us  desiring for more, to experience more, to enjoy more, to feel more, to live more .

Village Gossip

This painting depicts early afternoon when most of the village women finish their daily chores. They sit down together to exchange some gossip. In villages everyone knows everyone, people are referred to as uncles and aunts. Interference in each other's matters is not considered violation of privacy but as help.Women help each other, the elders pass on their wisdom while the young women learn . Children grow up playing with goats, pups, dogs and chasing chicken. Climbing trees and racing are some of the most entertaining games. Rag dolls and wooden toys are home- made, no matter how hot the days, children wait for their mothers to fall asleep while trying to make the child take a nap and then sneak outdoors to play all afternoon.

Painting By Kanak Sinha