They are the same and yet another

Every square is marked,

Every line measured,

But within those lines,

There is no boundary to expression,

There is no extent to color,

There is no limit to the vibrancy they hold,

They are the same

and yet they are another

Jamavar

Jamavar:

Its origins are from the subcontinent (Kashmir). It was worn by the elites of India and second only to silk, usually combined with it to form beautiful and eye-catching creations. Historically it was made by hand. A shawl took a couple of decades to complete. Original shawls are still very expensive. I fell in love with one last year but it was well over $1300.
Machine made jamavar is readily available all throughout Pakistan. And much cheaper.

For me, Jamavar is all richness.
I love the way it flaunts its hues. The embellishments only add to its boldness.
I have a lovely piece here which I covered and molded into a frame.

Least to say, my wall does not look the same anymore.

Looking at wonders

People travel to wonder at the highest of mountains,

at the huge waves of the sea,

at the long course of rivers,

at the vast compass of the ocean,

at the circular motion of the stars,

and they pass by themselves without wondering.

Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening

I first read this poem when I was about 11 years old. From that moment onwards I have been haunted by this beautiful poem. At every reading the words swell up inside of me and glisten my eyes.
And whenever I am on an edge of an abyss, the words; 'miles to go before I sleep' carry me back to life.

Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

By Robert Frost

My Corner

Everyone should have a corner
This is mine
Right besides those blinds
Right below my painted flowers
The sunlight streams through all morning
The light diffused as afternoon approaches
The light dimmer in the evening
The time for me to put my book back on the shelf

Losing and Finding

Losing and Finding
leave it on a desk, a taxi or a path
leave it in a mall,
leave it here or there or there
the book travels everywhere

There is a certain trend that has started. People leave their books in public places. Strangers find them, read them and place them yet again for strangers.
The books go globetrotting and there is information inside to websites and names and current trotting status.
I have yet to find my first book.

In my own mind

This is the start of my new library in an alien country,

With each book
From the first word to the last
I am in my own country
In my own world

In my own mind

Me, My Tea and My Drawing Block

Me, the Dreamer
Tea, my Ingredient
Drawing Block ,my Board

Me, the Muse
Tea, the Music
Drawing Block ,the Empty reel

Me, the Creator
Tea, my Energizer
Drawing Block ,my Canvas

My morning cup of Tea

Wash the Cup
Put water in a pan
Light the fire
In goes the sugar into the cup
The milk in a powder follows it next
Mix those scented leaves crushed and dried
Then pour the honey liquid into the Cup
Stir and mix those three ingredients
They start the day
Just sip it slowly
For there is much to conquer next.

Of friends and foe

Mind, my friend, my foe
I see yet I don't,
I defeat it yet I don't,
I speak to it
and it responds with the answer
That when the winds shall pass through me,
And all is well
I shall shape it.