Within without

I had made this collage a while ago and called it 'Within and Without'...a lot of mystical stuff in there. I like it.

One day there were rains and heavy winds. I like it

The winds swept through the windows and started hitting at my collage...it was on stiff cardboard and rarely moved from its rather stoical position. But as I sat there writing, it was striking at the wall, beating itself in agony. I did not get up to straighten it, hold it, soothe it into place, fix it to the wall at the bottom end.

I did nothing...just watched it, sometimes dancing like a dervish in madness, sometimes looking like it wanted to fall and die. After all, it existed as bits and pieces of my imagination, forced into a whole.

I did nothing. I looked into the mirror. Another collage. Winds lashed against my face. Madness. Agony. Bits and pieces. Within. Without.

“Zakhm kucchh aise miley
Phoolon pe soya na gaya...”


  1. differnt days... different offerings...

  2. Chalo...koi tau iss par ghaur farmayaa...I was beginning to wonder whether Pakistan was a good idea!

    "differnt days... different offerings..."

    Sounds like a Siddhi Vinayak temple appeal...