Haze and Mist

                             Lili 

The painting above is by F.N.Souza. 

O time now slow down Your phrenetic pace Else bring not along opportunity To my refractory Door Ceaseless and pulsing Your patient knocks Trip compellingly My circumspection Each reluctant step A lure A sure circumstance Of death and You O Time!

Boy with house Weirdo Drawing Owl Migration Head Sphynx Transplanting Man-Rooster

The swimming pool at Perola Do Mar in Candolim is a place where day trippers come to swim. Families with young come and break every rule in the resort. They drink and eat at the swimming pool, dive, make noise and they leave filthy plastic all over, after chucking their packages of chips and things. Most can't swim at all, but a dip in the pool is a must. It is cool. This chap here in blue was there, literally like the pillar of strength to his son, who was so scared of getting into the pool that he remained sitting on his dad's shoulders all the while they were in the pool. I saw how dead statues can become objects of admiration and worship to angels. The size is all that mattered: The dead statue is BIG and the angels small. ...And I saw a cock in Fontainhas. He has a personality. He reminded me of my years in Fontainhas between 1970 -85. Not much has changed, I think, except economic conditions. People in Mala have become cockier! That one is a thing that comes again a...

Gaanasaraswati Padmabhushan sreemati Kishoritai Amonkar sang the other evening at Kala academy. I missed another event I was invited to because I wanted to listen to Kishori . Given the choice of listening to Kishori Amonkar on one hand , and a few arty- farties on the other, the former is several times valuable, I thought. Kishoritai was bang on time! The programme was to start at 6.30. It started at 6.30 alright, but then, the flowery felicitations and other formalities took another 20 minutes or so. More minutes went in tuning the swaramandal and other instruments. Then Kishoritai was not satisfied with the acoustic arrangement. She kept on ordering the staff stage manager to shift this and that ; lower the violin out put and kill the boom. Then she made as if to start. Within the first two phrases she established the rukh (face) of Miyan ki Malhar . Then she stopped to order the poor stage manager again. She asked him to increase sharpness of the sound, which was pr...

White is limitless. There is no ultimate white. Green is a whore! In yellow, Ochre has no shame; Lemon is impressionable, it is easily moved to pity. Chrome has a strong will, cadmium too, but the latter is friendlier. Gamboge had a sister who died of neffritis, so she wills upon herself that torment. Blue is an abandoned child: it demands things. Red is passionate, and agressive, and a show off. He loves himself. Black has no shame. He is a colour without upbringing. Black has no tact. ***