that overgrown suitcase of memories
This poem (or an excuse of a poem) was written in a flash for a friend who asked for advice whether to meet an old flame or not.
If you have to go to the North, my love
Why not take the first train
To gaze at the autumn sky
Feel the chilly air in your bones
Clear all the dust
A painting has gathered in years.
Stroke the love that is not lost
Even if for the few moments
when you look at the sky
When all the dust has been cleared
Alas, that will be the time to come back
It will be sad, as it was before
But the quivering moments stolen from life
will come back with thee
And, life shall not be all that empty
you will smile at the little treasure in
that wobbling and quavering,
overgrown suitcase of memories


I am growing fond of
Discovered this image of a calligraphic work and about the Iraqi artist Hassan Massoudy at the
Christie’s South Asian modern and contemporary art sale here March 20 will feature works of leading 20th and 21st century artists from various countries in the region, including India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. The sale will focus on prime examples of many different movements, styles and highlights and will include works from modern masters M.F. Husain, Francis Newton Souza, Tyeb Mehta, Vasudeo S. Gaitonde, Syed Haider Raza and Ram Kumar as well as works from leading contemporary artists including Atul Dodiya, Bharti Kher and Jitish Kallat.












Recent Comments