Hilly Land and Her New Home

The new land though hilly and mountainous, had its own charms. Lying on the outskirts of the town it was literally a hill which her father had purchased at a throw a way price. A farmer, with green fingers he started terrace cultivation. It was an innovation which was much appreciated. And he tapped the best of harvest from it. He loved trees. He bought sapplings from fruit tree farms and planted them. Mango Trees were his favourites. Even though she missed her childhood home here was a new kind of terrain rather a wild one. It was the little streams and the high mountains that fascinated her. They lived "far away from the madding crowd". They had no neighbours, wherever she looked there was only green undulating land. She felt like Cowper's solitary sailor, the the monarch of all she surveyed .This love for land and trees remained with her long after she left her home.

Painting by Latha Prem Sakhya

Home - A Place Where You Really Belong

Trees

Trees were next to her heart if one checks out her passion for water sources. The trees on her land were a source of wonder for her. There were four gigantic Tamarind trees like sentries watching over their land. Her favourite one was the second tree nearest to her home. She was always there, building houses for her dolls .Often her sisters and other akkas (Elder sisters) in the neighbourhood joined her. They would play, inventing game after game all,  products of sheer imagination. Their all time favourite was keeping a drunkard’s house. The girl became invariably the drunkard. Because she had watched from a distance what occurred in her friend Rani’s house when her father came home drunk Oh there was, much fun and laughter. Then there were those huge Ayyanni trees and the jack fruit trees.. The girl really loved them .In great ecstasy she would hug them to her heart. As she grew the trees became a kind of solace for her. Often she shared her teenage woes with them. In their silence or in their rustling she heard words of comfort. They were also her favourite haunt where she read her favourite books or where she studied. She even slept under their shade. This love grew but when they shifted to the new farm her father purchased,  her heart was broken. She missed her friend the boy in blue shirt and Khaki Knickers, the crystal clear pond and her huge trees.


Down Memory lane


Going down memory lane,
I came to my old homestead-
Where, for seventeen summers
I was nurtured.

The old rambling house, with its spacious rooms;
The sweeping land; the gigantic tamarind trees-
Four great pillars- sentry like
Guarding the terrain.

The second one, nearest to my homestead -
Our favourite haunt! My siblings
And I, with childish enthusiasm, played
Making doll houses and keeping house.

Oh, it was such fun then!
No care, no worries,
Only, innocent mirth and grief.
But alas gliding years,
Weaves a nostalgic dream
Unwinding the spool of yearning,
To regain the golden days of childhood.

From  Memory Rain

Childhood

I distinctively remember a small chubby fair girl in sleeveless knee length frock running down the terrain at the back of her house when aurora came kissing the trees and nests of the birds awakening them to sing their welcome song to Apollo. The girl ran as if she had an urgent errant, but only to stop under the tamarind tree and take her first glimpse of the tiny pool after the previous night’s rain. If it was muddy like the strong morning tea, she would hasten back, a big disappointment writ large on her face. If it was sapphire green she would go dancing down the slope slithering and scraping her thighs in her hurry to reach the pool. She would drink the pool with her eyes and look beyond the paddy fields bathed in morning mist. Somewhere on the distant bank lived her friend .She had seen him making his way to her neighbour’s house to buy milk. He was a very good looking rolly polly boy. He never dared to look at her teasing eyes that followed him lovingly. They never spoke. But there was love in her young heart.

Unicorns

 Unicorn is a mythical creature. It is almost always conceived as a slender white horse with a single horn on the middle of its forehead. It is supposed to be peaceful and timid and a harbinger of good luck. It is untameable and can never be exploited. It lives in its own wild, special place. I was fascinated with this creature from childhood and it was this fascination that drove me to paint a Unicorn.It is one of my favourite mythical animals.

My Unicorn