Love bites

As she meticulously arranged her scarf to hide scars from the previous night’s tiff , she remembered the days when she had flaunted marks on her neck as if they were trophies .

‘Love bites’ had taken new meaning .

 

Advertisements

Like daughter , like mother

Am watching her sleep , blissfully unaware of how everyone who sees her says she’s so much like me .

Am watching her and marveling at the semblance . It makes me smile.

Am watching her and fearing that she might grow up to be just like me.

Am watching her and wishing she wouldn’t grow up so quickly . It does something to me , watching her so happy , so full of energy , so contagious .

She reminds me of me, that which I have ceased to be , that which I am trying to be again.

Like mother , like daughter – they all say . I look at her and remind myself like daughter , like mother .

Thread Garden , Ooty

The dimly lit room, which has exhibits of Anthony Joseph’s labour of love, is a treat for those who love art , craft and stories . “No machinery , no needles” , he says proudly . I was lucky to meet the man behind the unique technique that he calls four dimensional hand wound embroidery.

DSC_0731

A journey that began in 1988 continues with as much zest and his nimble fingers have found help over the years in 50 pairs of gifted hands that have supported him and matched his passion and perfection in creating each piece .Each artisan goes through three years of training in the time consuming technique .

DSC_0746

DSC_0749.JPG

Lots of research , canvas , threads , glue and wires have gone into making this garden what it is today. More than a hundred varieties of flowers are on display here at the thread garden and one can take home a keepsake from the little store outside .

DSC_0769.JPGDSC_0754.JPG

DSC_0777.JPGDSC_0782.JPG

DSC_0787.JPG

dsc_0789.jpg

Located near Ooty lake , this one is an absolute delight .

Giving up

When they ask me how I am

I want to scream,”Am not okay.”

When it’s time to wake up

I want to plead ,” Not today.”

I want to crawl under dark sheets

where no one can see the rot that’s me

I want to open every wound again

so that they bleed until I ‘m free

I want to tell mama I can’t go on

And run away from all I know

I want to tell life that it won this time

And I cannot take it anymore .