Letting The Mind Breathe

I began these mindful drawings in a fragile, unsettled state of mind. My thoughts felt scattered, restless, overlapping, too many at once. So I picked up colours and let them move without planning, without forcing sense or structure. I didn’t try to control the flow; I let the flow carry me. As the colours settled, so did parts of me.

While doing this, a thought stayed with me: Is this even anything? Later, that thought came back through others. Some asked, “What kind of painting is this?” Some said, “It has no meaning.” Some looked longer, trying to extract logic, trying to name it, trying to make sense of it. Others simply found it beautiful.

I noticed how familiar this felt. How people always want to define, label, approve, or dismiss. How art becomes a mirror for their own need to understand or control. And I realised, this is not new. This is human nature.

But this wasn’t made for explanation. It was made for survival. For breathing. For letting my scattered thoughts land somewhere gentle

I don’t need everyone to understand it. I don’t need to defend it. People may say so many different things. They always will. And what we need to do is to continue to do what we do, quietly, honestly, and with care! That’s enough!

And somehow, in the midst of all this, these paintings reside in a foreign land, resting there with a grace that still surprises me!

#roksanatales

Residing Happily, In Tokyo, Japan

Musing

We leave places behind, but pieces of them keep travelling with us ….

#roksanatales

Bravery

Climb the hill
Then jump across the small gap
Bravery feels free …

#roksanatales

Turona’s Mountain

There was a small village at the foot of a mountain. The village was called Shantipur. In that village lived a little girl named Turona. Every day, Turona would gaze at the big mountain from afar. In the morning, the mountain sparkled in golden sunlight, and by evening, it glowed in a soft reddish hue …

One day, Turona decided she would climb to the top of that mountain. Everyone said, ‘It’s too high, you won’t be able to.’ But Turona smiled and replied, ‘How will I know if I don’t try?’ …

The next morning, she set off with a bottle of water, some fruit, and a notebook. On the way, she grew tired, her feet ached on the stones, yet she didn’t stop. Sometimes she sat down to rest, listening to the sound of the wind and watching the birds fly …

Finally, after noon, she reached the top of the mountain. Looking down, she saw how beautiful her little village was, green fields, tiny houses, and a silver river flowing gently through it …

In her notebook, Turona wrote, ‘The joy of reaching the highest place only comes when you refuse to give up.’ …

Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled of freedom, and inside her heart, there was peace …

She realized that the real mountain wasn’t outside, but within her. And that day, she had conquered both …

#roksanatales

How we used to write short stories when we were young! I remember how every night I’d make up stories to tell my little sisters before they fell asleep. I used to jot down bits of them in my notebook too. Often, I’d go up to our rooftop with that notebook, gazing at the distant sky until my thoughts drifted away. I wanted to write, and sometimes, I did. Other times, I simply got lost in my own imagination!

I’m sure it happened with you too!

Anyways, now tell me,
What is the ‘mountain’ in your own life that you’ve been afraid to climb?
Or tell me,
When was the last time you tried something even though others doubted you?

I Sense You ….

watching sunset ✿ܓsimple and shiny

In the stillness of the lake
As I keep still,
I sense you
I sense a feeling of warmth
Flowing inside me …
I sense a reflection of you
Residing inside me …
So beautiful and mesmerising …
Then
I sense the strength to move along
In various ups and downs of life
With you and you only …

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#roksanatales

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dilkash rahe zindagi hai bas yahi dua sun lo naa

Quiet Contemplation

Inhaling moments of pure bliss

Exhaling silence and calm …

#roksanatales

Stillness

I think I have learnt something of the value of stillness. I don’t fret so much; I laugh at myself more often; I don’t laugh at others. I live life at my own pace. Like a banyan tree. Is this wisdom, or is it just old age?”

Ruskin BondA Book of Simple Living: Brief Notes from the Hills