Musings of an Undercover Yogi

Archive for the ‘creativity’ Category

Yogi Shiva Mahadev | My Sadhguru

The one who is as vivacious as life,
As still as death.
The one who influences destiny,
Is beyond life and death.
The one who is a timeless presence,
A boundless grace.

I’m too puny to wish this one, yet I try.
Because he shelters me, burns for me.
Because he lives in each breath I take.
Happy birthday, my beloved Sadhguru!

๐ŸŒน๐ŸŒธ๐ŸŒผ๐ŸŒป๐ŸŒท๐ŸŒบ๐Ÿต๏ธ

– Bijita Dhar

On your birthday, wrote a little something as an offering. Pranam, Sadhguru. ๐ŸŒผ๐ŸŒบ๐Ÿ‘ฃ๐Ÿ™‡๐ŸŒธ๐ŸŒน

Artwork by @dhriti_art

Artwork of Lord Jagannath

I met him on Facebook, bantering with a mutual friend in the comments section of a post. Their goofy exchanges in deliberately twisted, sometimes Hindified Bangla were hilarious. It wasn’t long before I started liking their comments. Gradually, I butted in their conversations, something I seldom do otherwise. Both of them welcomed my intrusions with open arms. At that point, exchanging friend requests with him felt like a mere formality. ๐Ÿ™‚

This friend, the exceptionally talented Vinayak Kharatโ€‹โ€‹, is an artist, a musician, singer, writer, and I don’t know what other talents lie hidden in his treasure chest! ๐Ÿ˜› One wouldn’t realize he’s a Maharashtrian if one read his exchanges with Bengali friends. I’m told of his proficiency in Bangla and remarkable understanding of the Bengali culture. ๐Ÿ™‚

We bonded over posts, and a few exchanges later, our conversations moved to occasional chats in messenger. He lost his father last year, and his post announcing the same touched me deeply, making me reach out in person. From his post, I realized both our fathers shared similarities. I couldn’t stop myself from tagging him when I wrote a long memoir to celebrate my father’s 70th birthday last year. I cherish our few but meaningful conversations because I relate with him on various levels.

Earlier this week, while resting because of ill health, I was pleasantly surprised to see his ping, politely requesting my postal address as he wished to send me a ‘little something’ for Ratha Jatra. Lord Jagannath has been one of the common factors between us three friends. Though I’ve never worshipped Jagannath, been to Puri, or witnessed the gaiety during Rath Jatra. That hasn’t stopped the devotee in me from bowing down with equal devotion to all phenomenal beings, irrespective of religions and communities.

Perhaps that’s why Lord Jagannath found His way to our home today, having traveled from Mumbai snuggled in an envelope! Sharing Vinayak’s thoughtful and generous gift, his own digital creation, an exquisite artwork depicting the beautiful and intricate Jagannath peeking from behind the door as if playing Peekaboo. His playfulness is so evident in his posture! I saw this artwork a few days ago when Vinayak shared it with me virtually but holding it in my hands is an entirely different experience altogether! I can’t stop looking at the details. Those huge piercing eyes, the nose pin, the neckpiece, and that mischievous grin. From his silk attire to the ornamented door, there’s nothing to not love in the entire frame! โค

The divine gift bundle

The artwork came wrapped in oodles of warmth in the form of his handwritten letter. I’ve always been a long-letters girl. Nothing delights me more than receiving a letter, which I haven’t in a long time. What a welcome break from being the one expected to write! For a change, I sat with my daughter reading his letter, smiling from ear to ear. Yatika has an interesting question, Vinayak. Quote Mumma, why has Uncle written Bijita ji? You guys are friends, right? I never call my friends ‘ji!’ unquote. ๐Ÿ˜ƒ

My dear Vinayak, thanking you on messenger would’ve been such a shame! So here’s my ‘little something’ for you, my profound gratitude post. Cheers to our friendship and your talent! May you grow leaps and bounds. Stay healthy, stay safe, bondhu! ๐Ÿ™‚

#FortyandConscious

As I age, I observe
My nature is to borrow.

My body I borrow from earth and water,
Breath from the air.
Food from mother earth nourishes me,
What keeps me alive is the Sun’s fire.
Ether loans me what I call my mind,
Gravity fondly keeps me earthbound.
Subtly, the moon gifts my womanhood.
Because of menstrual cycles, I experience motherhood.

In the moonless night sky that’s my hair,
Occasional greys flash like thunderbolts.
The scales on my body remind me of
Reptiles, if only mine were as beautiful and bold!
My laughter forms laugh lines
That some call crow’s feet!
My creases and gnarls resemble
Those on trees, only way milder be it.

My veins will gradually mark attendance,
Just like those of my grandma’s.
Parts of my body will respond to gravity,
And incline southbound.
The passage of time continually
Alters all that is physical.
Reminding me of my mortal nature
And my connection with all life forms, eternal.

Living a borrowed existence inside-out,
How can I call something or someone mine?
How can I possess, dominate, or destroy
When nothing in this existence I own?
Popping in from my mother’s womb as a magical loan,
Poof! One day I’ll pop out and return to the cosmic womb.
Why then, should the time in between
Hold space for suffering and cruelty?

So like a snake sheds its skin,
Today I shed four decades behind.
To live in this moment by inclusion, not in isolation.
To exist gently and joyfully for as long as I might.
For my borrowed existence stealthily slips
Through the hourglass of time.
For this loan of life, once expired, has no renewal.
For it is a privilege to be alive!

– Bijita Dhar

Photo credit: My lovely daughter. โค

In the late 90s, a certain form of abstract artwork in newspapers caught my eye. The artwork was a far cry from the incomprehensible, colorful gibberish that often passes off as abstract or modern art. The figures were a beautiful interplay of shadow and light, partial yet not incompleteโ€”silhouettes.

The Guitarist
The Face

As I created these black beauties, I couldn’t help but admire the partialness. What was not visible seemed more beautiful and ever-present than what was visible. A plethora of colors is not always needed to create magic; black and white do it equally well. What say?

Banyan leaf craft: The Lone Hut

In 2015, my then three-year-old daughter’s playschool announced the Best of Waste competition for all students (playschool, two kindergarten batches, and Grade 1).

Those days, Maa looked after our daughter while hubby and I were at work. On the day of the announcement, a Monday, Maa called to inform me about the circular sent by the school. We had a week to submit a creation; submissions were due next Monday. I was miffed. A project of that nature for preschoolers meant 100% parental involvement, from conceptualization to execution. Who knew it was just the beginning of longer, more complex projects to come in the future! ๐Ÿ˜

I forgot about the project for a couple of days as I had a deadline to meet at work. On Wednesday night, I Googled for inspiration but found nothing appealing. By Thursday afternoon, I decided to make something out-of-the-box.

As a child, I preserved flowers and leaves between the pages of my favorite fat novels. A heavyweight object was kept on top of the said novel to compress the buried stuff and left untouched for days. Sometimes, my curiosity got the better of me and I opened the book to check progress. After the buried stuff was flattened and dry, it was fun to take it out gingerly using the thumb and the forefinger. And then to inspect the veins against the light while marveling at its papery qualities. Each time, it was amazing to observe how brightly colored, vibrant life forms dried up into lifeless forms with subtle, beautiful shades. ๐Ÿ˜

A representative image resembling my childhood collection | Image credit: interflora.co.uk

Sometimes, I gingerly sketched something small on such a delicate leaf. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, we were blissfully devoid of computers and the Internet. The only way to share our creations was when friends dropped by. Or, to simply carry the book with buried treasures and cycle along to a friend’s house, where you’d end up displaying your collection to the entire family! ๐Ÿ™‚

As happy childhood memories flooded my brain like dopamine, I Googled ‘leaf art’ with a smile. Google showed some terrific stuff but implementing those meant zero to minimal involvement from my preschooler. That’s when I stopped looking for inspiration and thought of conceptualizing something that could involve my girl.

Our yearly train travels during summer holidays inculcated a love for the countryside in me since childhood. My love for rural scenes has only grown with time. I decided to create something village-inspired and thought, let’s figure out what to create when we reach that point.

On Friday, I decided to pick some waste materials from work. I brought home 3-4 used beverage stirrers (plastic straws) and a thermocol glass. Beverage stains lingered despite a thorough wash, making the items perfect for use. I asked Maa to look for discarded cartons in the dumping area of the defence canteen in our locality. On finding something reusable, she was to inform the canteen manager and bring a carton home. The intrigued manager asked her what’s it to be used for. Eager to see the outcome, he told her to take whatever she needed, anytime she needed it. ๐Ÿ™‚

Armed with a bag on Saturday evening, the three of us (Maa, kiddo, and I) went to the park in our locality. Per my instructions, the kiddo collected green, yellow, and orange leaves freshly fallen beneath the banyan and other trees. She also picked a handful of semi-dry grass from the heap left by the lawnmower. Then she picked dry twigs and semi-dry flowers and dropped all treasures in our bag. We also picked up a couple of long, stray twigs probably cut loose from a coconut-twig broom while the caretaker swept the park.

Collecting everything took quite some time as we were frequently interrupted by curious passersby, who wanted to know what were we doing and why. A couple of experienced mothers asked what could be created from the stuff discarded by Mother Nature. Wouldn’t it be better to use old newspapers, bottles, cans, plates, and the likes? We could always buy glitters, colored papers, and ice-cream sticks from the shop in our locality. That’s what they did for similar school projects. I smiled and thanked these strangers for the unsolicited advice. ๐Ÿ™‚

That night after dinner, kiddo and I sat on the floor and emptied our treasure bag. Kiddo became my helper and fetched a pair of scissors, a glue stick, and transparent sticky tape, while I mulled over what to create and how. I started by cutting out the base of the carton. My helper sat nearby and watched her craftsperson live in action. I applied glue at the center of the cardboard and told my helper to stick a large banyan leaf on it. Next, I applied glue on the banyan leaf and set the stage for our craftwork. Kiddo sprinkled grass on the leaf to create the ground. I cut the beverage stirrers into small pieces and asked her to stick those above the grass one by one, forming the front wall of a hut. Similarly, broom twig cuttings formed the roof of the hut. By now, kiddo was yawning so I packed her off for the night, and continued alone.

Next, the dry twigs and semi-dry flowers formed a carefully and artfully arranged flowering tree that looked bent with the weight of the flowers. A small cut-out from an orange leaf became the full moon. The arrangements had to be precise as the items were tiny. Cuttings from the thermocol glass served several purposes. The circular base became the identifier with kiddo’s name on it. A vertical cutout from the wall displayed the project title. The remaining wall became an unusually shaped menu card that proudly listed the discarded ingredients used in the project. I went to bed that night quite pleased with our efforts.

I had the entire Sunday to explain the piece to kiddo, who loved it. We also clicked a couple of pictures. By evening, we had to restick several elements that came off the edges as leaves and flowers dried up further. We must’ve admired our handiwork several times and gotten the rest of the family to do the same! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Thankfully by Monday morning, nothing else had crumpled. The labor of our love was in good shape to be handed over to Bharati Ma’am, the class teacher. Ma’am was delighted to have it and asked what inspired this creation. After a lovely, warm conversation with the gorgeous lady, I went off to work.

In the second half, Maa called to share the results. The judges unanimously declared our craft as the top winner! Bharati Ma’am later shared that each creation was closely inspected to ascertain if they were waste materials or bought from the nearest store in the eleventh hour. Experience speaks! ๐Ÿคช The beverage stains and our hard work paid off! ๐Ÿ™‚

Full view of The Lone Hut that won first prize

Fellow parents, feel free to steal copy borrow draw inspiration from our work! Go crazy, think different! Have fun with kids! ๐Ÿ™‚