Skip to main content

scribbling life.



As I was chewing up the back of my pencil during philosophy class today, I realized I have been neglecting my beloved blog past two months, I have no excuse that I was busy or didn't have time. To be honest I didn't get the right mood and topic to write about. Many things happened in my State in last two months but I refrained from writing about them as I did not feel it.

Back to chewing pencil moment:- I also realized I completed one year of my Pink College Life. Now the blues have become tolerable, and the color pink is still not my Favorite. I look back one whole year behind me.

Last one year had been very painful, ironical,paradoxical, spiritual and traumatic for me in the beginning. My friends went outside to study, and I came back from Delhi University, I had the great experience of joining three colleges at a go.. I remember the words I uttered to my sister when I decided to Leave Delhi - Beggars Cant Be Choosers, my best friend and soul sister also left for their respective institutions. For first time I realized the meaning of being lonely even when you are surrounded by the crowd. I understood the difference between being Alone and being Lonely. I was at the highest peak of pessimism- sleeping, eating crying, shouting, and hating everything.

But this blog helped get back on life, I joined Pink College late by almost two months, yet I claimed second position in my department ( not being proud, but great-full to the one looking at me). So while chewing pencil I realized I changed, though I wont claim maturity, but I grew. Again I found some habits have become my nature, which even the Pink College Blue could not take away from me.

Two habits I developed in Pink College.

1. My creative skills in writing. ( which you have been reading for a while now).
2. My creative skills in Art.

Lets elaborate part II, before writing Art has been my first love, before writing alphabets I started drawing. My habit of scribble art dates back to the age of one. All my life I have been scribbling small, big, round, fat anything and everything behind the back of my notebooks, study books even library books. My Mother was my first teacher and till today the biggest critic of mine. This Scribbling caused me to get punished even in my final year of school.

So can I stop scribbling despite being sad for few stupid reason, NO I cant. So here are handful of scribbles and few art I did for myself.

 

This drawings are created when my imagination runs wild

cant stop my hand

Art for Arts sake


I feel I am Willam Blake reborn
Art is my passion
If I dont draw I never understand poetry



the caricature are of different poem drawn here as I did not have the actual poem 

I love Blake's Lamb

Its my pencil not me

same thoughts


We  exist cause we think

Feminist Art

How can I understand If I do not draw


End of Book scribbles

My madness is not limited to my books but even my study, Ariel view of my study.  

Art- Heaven, drew first Semester 

Art- Mortal land, drew second Semester

Art- Pleasurable Hell, drew this semester 

In case you think I just brag, our department wall magazine I helped too

My madness personified in her (pardon me I dont have scanner)
Being Alone


never alone



obsessed  with winged creatures, faeries since age of One 
my personal love a warrior woman


a closer view of my study there is the boat of Coelho, mountain of class X, Hill of  5th position


I even painted the edges of my study.
the wonderland of my imagination

The Highland of paulOaries



The spaceship of my school

The never climbed Mountain of DU

rotten house of ideals
My achievements, desires, failures, everything has got place in my study, big or small, I wonder how such a small desk can accumulate my 19years of life. Yet the study inspires me to work hard and better and move in life. If anyone wants an autobiography of mine then this is it.


If you felt I just scribbled, no I draw, I paint too, Art- Primma Donna my best painting till date,
Art my first Love, art helps me learn better, see better and interpret better,. Had I not been in love with imagining things, I would have been any other soul wandering the streets just to get education to make living.

P.S- not very constant writing today, but had to share it and the Page Witch's Obsession has been updated with new orphaned shoes.

thanking you to bear with me
paulOaries




Labels:

Comments

  1. SpringApple16 September 2012 at 18:46

    Before I say anything, two things: Break, break break is a lovely poem. I loved it. Second: your personified maddness girl. :-D. I wish there were some like buttons, or love buttons below these photos. Thumbs up. Keep going.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Momas'Day

As the month of May creepily entered my calendar,, I realized something was special... Well the Mothers Day entered my to-do-list...  I thought I was the only dearest daughter in the world who cared for her mother... But again my illusion was broken, by good major mates... Both of my major mates were also anxious about this one day...  First we got confused when the actual day was, some one said 1st may, other  8th may... But after all whats my dear Google for?? We found the date It was 13th May,, the second Sunday of may... So sitting in our Philosophy Exam hall, we three started discussing what to gift our dearest mothers,,, but to our surprise it was not only we three but many others who wanted to gift their mom,,. Hence the discussion broke out, one mate said she had already gifted her mother a Saree worth three thousand bucks... Now we all got dumbstruck by the selfless act and realized how shameless we were only gifting o...
4 comments
Read more

root-less

Every time I hear the word roots, my mind doesn’t flash the image of brown, muddy tentacle filled organism, but drags me back to my history class eight years back. My class teacher had asked us about the Slavic nations, we all were clueless. She had practically called us a batch of dumb-set high strung on ignorance. She had called our lack of respect for national history, regional past and personal chronicles tragic, and prophesied that this tragic trait would leave us handicap. Then she added the example of an arrogant little newborn leaf which was so proud of its luscious green colour that it detached itself from the brown tree. It died the very next moment. To her we were all going to face the same fate. Among the fallen human leaves of my generation, I am a proud member too. Few days back I was told, I need to stop writing in English and start writing in my mother tongue. No good writing happens in one’s second tongue. In its own place and context, it’s a very sound a...
1 comment
Read more

A duckish tale.

{(Well I lied, I am back, my first major paper was pathetic, second paper I survived. Technically my exam gets over on 14th june. My post exam slumber has begun before my exams are over. My Net problems still prevail,  exams went down the water, so sad me read fanfictions in my cellphone. This resulted in me penning my own. So I am going to put up two fanfictions. One is Princess Tutu another Junjou Romantica. Its not good, but lets say, if you like it, I will create a page called Witchiction. This particular story is written for my soul sister, its her  belated birthday gift from me. Dear Soul-Sister, we had decided in seventh grade to give Fakir and Ahiru their happy ending, so here is my little attempt to give them Happy Ending.)  Disclaimer- I dont, will never ever own Princess Tutu, it belongs to Ikuko Itoh. /this Anime means a lot to us specially my Soul sister and me,} BACKGROUND OF STORY ( In the Anime , Ahiru was a character created to help Mytho ...
2 comments
Read more