Manjari Shukla

Photographs are

memories in concrete form,

capturing the abstract moments, and

emotions.

The moments really

Lose the ephemerality,

And

Get a lifetime of eternity.

What we feel

To be momentary

In a moment,

Is made eternal

Once

We click.

 

Some memories transform into

Photographs,

And some photographs transmogrify into

Memories.

There so much

In every moment,

And there is so much

In every click.

Manjari Shukla

The scorching heat of the month of May in India suddenly got removed by a wonderful shower of rain, the breeze which was too very hot and painful, suddenly became, soothing and perfect in every sense. The weather was unraveling its best mood, and trying to mesmerize everyone with its magical spell of rain. I stood by the window, and kept gazing at the sky, from which raindrops trickled down continuously, as if celebrating something, and outpouring happiness, more happiness.

Each raindrop was having a whole store of happiness within itself, the moment it fell on my window sill, it actually filled me with the happiness, which it was holding in itself. Slowly, the drops created a small pool of happiness, and suddenly a small sparrow came from somewhere, sat near the pool, and had a gulp of water for its thirsty neck, it too was glad. While it was having the gulp of happiness from the rain water pool, I was hiding beside the window sill, observing it, but not making it aware of my presence. It was lovely, to see the small sparrow quench its thirst.  It rested for a while, to keep itself dry from the rain, and when the showers stopped for a while, it flew to its nest, which was on a nearby tree.

All was so good, and really an oft quoted statement came to my mind, that if one really hunts for happiness, it can be felt in the most common things, at times even those things, which are beyond our visualization when we are not in a mood to look for happiness and contentment, but if we actually look for happiness, it holds our hands, and shows us what was lying in front of us…. and then really every little aspect of life bestows on us a full bag of happiness, sheer happiness.

Manjari Shukla

The breeze blowing near the sea shore, reminded me of the wonderful tides, on which we rode our steamer, when we were kids. Everything was mesmerizing, beautiful and just the way we thought it to be, now after so many years, when my brother and I am married, we have family; often when we meet our mom and dad in the summer breaks, I long to visit those times, once again which we treaded so very happily in the company of one another. Our mom and dad, are now staying with each other, and we two working and staying with our family a bit away from them, we talk on phone every day, and even visit them at small intervals, to have lunch and dinner, with our better halves and kids, but those get togethers are momentary, and when we leave, they both are again left only with each other. The walk, I often take near the sea shore reminds me of all those times which passed like a wink of an eye… and now after so many years, we have only memories to cherish and nothing else. If I had a time machine, I would have taken a trip down to the memory lane, and would have stayed as long as possible with my family, and would have stretched all the favourite moments to eternity, but I guess, that is quite impossible, still I long to have a time machine… No doubt, I am happy with my husband and family, still those moments spent with my family were I guess, the best ever in the whole life time.

Manjari Shukla

With a pen in hand, as if compared to a painter’s brush, I decided to write something, compared as an art piece of a painter…this is something too close to my soul, just like a painting close to an artist’s soul…something which defines myself, my attributes, my concerns, and my choices… . The canvas was the paper on which I decided to write…I think scribbling will be  a better word… just like a painter, I picked up the pen, which in an artist’s case will be a painting brush…I saw the white sheet in front of me…thought what to write, compose, indite … then waited for a while… rose from the chair on which I was sitting… decided to go near the window, and felt the monsoon like weather all over me… it was raining outside…. I came back to my writing space, and once again thought to continue with my scribbling, hoping this time a new concept might emerge… as an artist, I once again dipped the brush of my writing into the tub of a conscious colour, decided to add some water… that is something fluid, or more adaptable to my thought process… . To enhance the painting I decided to add bright colours… (please follow that this is something which I am writing, not something which a painter might paint)…one can interpret this as… a photograph of writing, taken from a painter’s camera… the colours here will be the conscious and unconscious thoughts, the brush will be the pen with which I am scribbling, waiting to make an art piece… in this case it will be a write-up, probably a poem, or a prose… once again I joined hands with my writing companion(i.e. pen)… and the scribbling finally came out to be a prose piece, which you are reading now… I truly enjoyed this small journey, realised myself to be in a painter’s shoe as well as a writer’s garb… truly liked it… how about you…?

Manjari Shukla

Mother… is in my opinion, more than a human being, she is truly a face, or extension of God…As it is said, since God cannot be everywhere with his children, he made mothers… they are beyond definition, explanation, anything… an epitome of love, care, understanding, hope, joy, advice…etc…etc… They are a shelter, a place of solace, a tree’s shade, a feeling without explanation, a gesture, so pristine… since the day we are here in this world, we are because of our parents, and our mother has truly been a companion all the while… though many a time, differences of opinion lead to a break in any human relation, but a relation with a our mother, is beyond all these dimensions… even though many a time, we hurt her by our behavior, still she is the only one by our side, no matter whatever happens… A friend, a guide, a teacher… and the list is ad infintum… Our mother is one such being, for whom, whatever is said, is always less… She is a Giver, throughout, no matter whether we care or not. She is always with us, in presence or in absentia, she traces our emotions very nicely, even if we do not say anything to her… She knows us best… and no one can ever know us more than Her…

She is a blessing to be cherished forever…

Happy Mother’s Day to All Mothers