LAHORE DESIGN

Be happy for no reason!

2011-07-31T12:33:00.000-07:00

Be happy for no reason!
You have reason enough to be :)

Since I only upload pictures I've taken myself on this blog, unless specified otherwise, pictures will of course seem random. Like this one, that I call 'Beads on a Branch'. This tree is actually pretty full of green and growing right outside but you won't be able to see that right now because it's night. :P

Pick yourself some wild flowers off a mountain side!

2011-07-18T08:25:00.000-07:00

There's a timeless joy in the simple pleasure of picking wild flowers growing on a cool mountainside, as I discovered earlier this past week, that is an end of itself. Oh, and wild blackberries off the edges of a dense, dark bush growing further downhill on a slope. Daisies, a single buttercup and others I do not know the names of, came together in a delightful little bunch in my fist, which was at once that of a child and a lady's.. as for a few moments I did nothing but choose my flowers and scamper up and down the mountain's sloping side. My host smiled and said she did the same when she was much younger, for as long as she could. Then I happily carried them back to show my mother, and laid them for a few moments to rest upon this ancient stool, hand painted to show the rose hips that grow around.

I was visitor to a delightful house that afternoon where the sun shone warmly after a night of cold rain, more than 165 years old, that had been built by the British and my hosts family had arrived only the week before Pakistan's creation. Now very much grown up with their own children scattered across the world, the children of this house still return to the mountains every summer, foregoing the chance to stay anywhere else in the world, with a fierce love and longing, proof of a happy childhood. They have left everything as sparse, as dark and wooden as it was, and spent a decade of summers restoring the ancient furniture.

Here, they point out: is a blue bird's nest hidden inside a hole in the veranda's beams. The roses capture my attention.

Pick yourself a few wild flowers off a mountain side. Forget about bringing them back, for they will wilt faster than you imagine, and show you they were happiest growing in the midst of nature's majestic sights, where they serve as testament to God's Beauty. You can only come to play a while, before you must go back.

Strange Language - I

2010-06-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

i thought it was time to share some of my 'other' kind of writing..that sometimes tries to record how my thoughts flow sometimes at night.

I can make some people laugh or scowl. The rest just stare. Whatever. If that’s okay with you, come on in. Leave your shoes at the door and open the windows. Walk barefoot, there’s dew on the grass that grows inside here. I need fresh air, even if its winter. I can tell whether a room is a prison or a porch just by feeling it when I enter.

Oh, and that scent is real. I don’t like synthetic experiences. I really don’t.

I took the time to bake that pie just so we could smell apples and sugar caramelizing together with lemon juice. I won't skip the cream.Tart and sweet is my favorite combination of flavor always. It is also the most restrictive. My throat, I don’t know why, it’s always sore. Something about the voice cords. Controversial voice cords, faultless for the words they deliver.

Well, Vocal cords if I must be correct. I’m done using correct English. There’s a language out there that we speak in our dreams and it was created so that those who never learned can understand, and even those whose tongues are destined to be rigid and faultless can utter. Every being in the Universe speaks this language in our dreams. Birds, walls, people, and more. It is heard by every human whatever their state of hearing, for the only soft and exciting place for our words to land is in the hearts and minds of another.

Too often have I flown through the proverbial ear canal route. Screamed through glass doors inside people harder and colder than rocks and steel.

I don’t know how I speak it, it’s gone when I wake up, but somehow it’s there in our dreams and it moves our hearts, travels across welcoming distances sometimes and comes up against a human wall others so that I am a ghost tugging at you.
It uproots it and throws it reeling into a empty space full of possibility, with space and riches enough for every human being there is, and returning to me like a boomerang, sliced by the emptiness it found there and the things it saw and felt far away. Such is the perceived poverty of the heart.

Such is the power of our 7th sense, this kind of communication that makes us fly in and out of our selves and time. That bridges humans with something other than just need and makes both togetherness and solitude an experience. Distance is never a matter, the heavens, the grave, the earth; all merge into one plane and eternity.
Do you hear me now? Do you see me as I speak? I have turned into a shimmering, moving plight that seeks a soft place to land, only to rest before I fly onwards again. To your destination. And mine.

World Refugee Day and Father's Day

2010-06-20T11:48:00.000-07:00

I wish for those who long for home, home.

I wish for all refugees across the world and in my country, to soon be back in homes that are theirs, and full of love, happiness and peace with their families. Ameen.

Happy Father's Day as well. Fathers, a refuge in their own right.

Above: Gardening. Harvesting vegetables in a small patch at home is just the kind of thing for Dads.

Heartfelt prayers for someone

2010-06-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

I am distracted today by the sudden striking of extreme testing on a small family I now know of and cannot stop thinking about.

A young man on his way to work had an accident that caused a head injury so serious, his chances of surviving are slim, and even if he does, his condition is uncertain. Too late to lament over anyones rash driving, or that he was not wearing a helmet, I pray God Will Have Mercy on him, his mother, a widow whose only child he is, and his wife - newly wed a few months ago, and that he survives and regains health, Ameen.

I post this to ask my readers and visitors to please pray for him and his family too with great hope - the God we pray to commands life and death and all there is in between and after, so that miracles for Him are no difficulty.

A reminder to be grateful for the life and health we have, and must not take for granted. A reminder to always pray to Allah to Protect us from the striking of misfortune.

Update: He passed away today, at the age of 25. I am so sad for his mother and wife, and that he will not see his child who will be born in a few months. I pray God gives his mother and wife the strength and peace they need.Please remember this family in your prayers.

An important lesson to learn from the birds

2010-06-05T02:13:00.000-07:00

Lately when distressed, I remind myself of the birds.

So happy outside my window, even in this searing heat they neither carry nor gather any water.

Somehow they begin and end each day with complete faith, and are fully rewarded.

Their Lord Provides for them, and they know it.

And so they set out each day,

to search for food and as they do,

they sing and soar and swoop and play

and are as light as can be.

They teach me a lesson in trust.

Surely their Lord can also take care of me and my troubles too.
Surely He Will.

Create your own food memories!

2010-06-02T02:26:00.000-07:00

Do you take pictures of your baking in progress? My suggestion is to stop amidst the preparations for what will become happy memories, and take a picture. Later on, it serves as a joyful reminder of the pleasure of creating a winter dessert served to friends, even months later in the scorching summer.

This above, is my apple pie in the making.. sugar, butter, lemon juice, cinnamon and tart apples, tossed and mixed and piled into a pastry crust - one of the best scents to waft enticingly through the home!

My take on old fashioned/vintage style floral photography

2010-05-23T11:38:00.000-07:00

Caught these flowers in spring.

How to nearly scare yourself in an artistic way

2010-05-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

I think possibly the only way you're justified if you're standing outside in the wind in complete darkness holding up a crystal to the moon, and then start spinning around slowly in the air, and doing slow scribbles in the air, is if you're with a camera.But I think I still nearly spooked myself out.

Presenting the rest of the Moon Scene Series I did just for fun.

Blogger thinks I'm lasagna tonight. Actually I'm your cat

2010-05-12T13:25:00.000-07:00

So this is really silly and I know it.

It's also supposed to be a picture of me.

I kind of freeze when it comes to putting up my own picture here.

I know its important for you to see me so that you know I'm not a terrorist, nor a cat, nor a plane, or your kitchen faucet secretly coming to life and having a blog of its own.

But it's also important for me to know you're not someone who looks at my picture and says

'I kille you!

So you see, for tonight I'm this lasagna I once made for some friends, and then after they left, I put a flower behind it and tried to make it look all like food does in glossy photos that makes you glaze over and say

'I adore you'

to food.

Anyway, if you happen to be all nice and have your own pic on your blog, and for some reason really think I may be your kitchen sink, or your cat, or a terrorist, or all of these, send me a line. I'll know to keep the lasagna pic!

Am I the only Pakistani who's not a terrorist?

2010-05-09T03:53:00.000-07:00

Lately I'm beginning to think I may be the only Pakistani who isnt a terrorist.

That's obviously not true, so simmer down patriots.

I'm just referring to the New York failed attack, and the frustration of us ordinary citizens who love peace.

I'd either like the State to disown those who commit acts of terrorism and strip them of their nationality, or declare all the rest of us as non-Pakistanis.

Instead of focusing on improving the lot of their own, they turn to trying to destroy others, themselves, and a religion that they disgrace and hijack.

The above is part of a series I did while playing with the moon.

Multi Tasking is Over rated and These are images of Ronaldo's images and a polar bear too.

2010-04-29T10:55:00.000-07:00

This is probably the closest to being the best example of the kind of multi tasking I can do, because I generally don't think I'm very good at it and I think multi tasking is way over rated. And since I'm probably the only one who thinks this in the current paradigm our corporate world is slavishly honoring, I think I could make myself an expert on the complete opposite belief - 'Multi Tasking is Over Rated and You Don't Need Dr Phil if You Think You Should Only Do the Work You're Doing While Doing the Work You're Doing'

Which is completely irrelevant to what this is.

Yes, this is Ronaldo.

Can you spot the double image?

There are two images here. I just recorded them, I didnt see him in person.

There I spoiled it. I tend to over explain things, like explaining my explanation only so that you will get it. I realized this when I was 16 and a teacher observed I REALLY explained things as if I felt the other person couldnt understand. I think I'm still doing it.

The above image should freak yoh out. Look for her.

Yes this is a polar bear. I dont know if its real. I think its animated. Somehow I feel like telling you I said to it before clicking ' Go Aaah. Nice bear.' But I didnt. I was watching a movie late at night, and decided to take pictures in slow exposure. Meaning I let the camera record for a couple of seconds and these are the resulting images. Interesting experiment but not one I am too interested in after the results. I also started missing out the dialogues in the movie I was watching, so theres my multi tasking for you.

Yes, Thats Ronaldo. He was in this Ad. I coloured it. :P

The little boy in blue. Can you relate?

2010-04-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

I am not standing in this street, but looking out over a wrought iron fence down where there are people, lots of them.

he sees me.

Now that I have this picture to pore over, I see him too.

I related to him in a way I can't explain,

except that I have felt like I have looked out at the world or life like this sometimes.

He is barefoot and the sun sets his hair aglow. I have no idea about him, except that he permeated my consciousness in a way, for a while.

There is a whole lot I discovered when looking at photos from this street. So many things I saw later, in the photos - objects, really, and people doing things. For another post, insha Allah.

This is about this little boy in blue.

Who says you tire of red-pink walls?

2010-04-23T00:12:00.000-07:00

I painted one of my walls a hot red-pink last year, a rather messy job I take a bit of pride in...Here are a couple of pictures.

not only did it surprisingly pull together the look of my room,

but I am not sick of it.

At all.

In fact, I think I might like to paint the other walls

but right now I dont have the energy

to take on the experimenting style of a job I do

or get an allergy :)

An attitude of gratitude note:

That I had the means and resources to get the paint & paint the wall myself.. energy, a little bit of cash, was able to go to the paint shop,ideas,

a wall to paint, a room, the ability to see and paint and learn.

Sounds silly?

Actually, I find this game to be great to play to help me cultivate an attitude of gratitude sometimes. And we dont even realize so many blessings until we start counting!

Goldfish Spin

2010-04-20T00:58:00.000-07:00

I don't like fish as pets anymore although I happily used to tend to them as a child.

This picture I took turned out interesting in the end, even if it makes me think of a claustrophobic spin! Does it seem anything to you?

Gold Toes in a Jaded Hand

2010-04-19T09:23:00.000-07:00

she is so new

we can count the days

she wonders it seems

trying to get used to

being here

she is my niece

unknown to me still

even as I hold her feet

that are purer than gold

And more precious,

being of Life

They have not yet touched the earth

But I hope they tread lightly

with grace

when they do

and these hands of mine

May God Always Bless

and Fill with Ceaseless Blessings

and Loving Happy Miracles

and gratefulness to feel their weight

Cloaked memories of our souls

2010-04-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

O clueless soul!

All you must do is remember.

Do me the favour,

and awake reliving an oath you once took

and remember the vivid reflection of yourself you must have seen

when I was not yet born

to cloak and mislead you.

nor wander with you

(you that were created in the heavens!)

in this world,

lost and astray.

Picture: Crows take off from winter branches in Jinnah Gardens, Lahore.

2010-04-04T10:02:00.000-07:00

Today is a break between the customary three ceremonies celebrating a marriage. This vase sat on each side of the stage last night.

"All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.

The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry, I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all"

- Rumi, Shams of Tabriz

Glimpses of a Mehndi- Part 1

2010-02-07T13:20:00.000-08:00

Brief glimpses of a mehndi celebration -

an oft celebrated night of festivities

with music, the colour yellow, and mehndi of couse

The mehndi is an entirely unneccessary, but customart part of weddings that last three or four days here - one occasion for each night.

Above is my friend, the bride going down the steps to her mehndi venue.

Would you like to wear a flower bracelet?

They are offered for the guests.

These are with marigolds, and small white fragrant flowers called moti.. (pearls).

My paternal grandmother would pick and wear these motiya flowers as earrings every day of the summer.

I once met someone who intricately weaves herself large heavy earrings made from white motiya everyday - she said it only takes her a short while from years of practice,

and they are her part of her signature style.

For their entrance:

The girls from the groom's side carried lit candles in henna/mehndi as they made their entrance.

The largest one is held by a few people together.

They used to come singing,

but now the DJ drowns them out with soppy bollywood songs.

Weddings here can really consume schedules, especially if you consider that while the actual time on the invite says 8:00 pm, guests arrive around 10, the groom and his family anywhere between 11PM to 1AM or even later in some cases.. and until they do, everyone is waiting.

If you will believe, the government actually stepped in recently and announced that all weddings were to end by 11 PM in Lahore, else, lights off!!! I'm serious.

The bride and groom sat in the wooden swing. Some people have it in their houses, but its just too formal and heavy for my taste.

Betel leaves with decorated edges
collect the bits of mehndi the guests swipe onto the bride and grooms hands. Just a custom, no significance.

Also, give them a bite of sweet mithai here,

in this case deep fried balls of dough from powdered milk dipped into syrup,

make Gulab Jamun, one of the tastiest and easiest mithai to make:

The groom's brother dancing - on this wedding, it was more bollywood than anything, complete with theatrical expressions and lipsynching to complicated choreographed Indian songs.

2010-02-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

From my friend's wedding, posting before the electricity goes as scheduled, but since its taking too long just now, here's just one of the traditional Bhangra dhol wallas /drummmers.

2010-02-04T10:02:00.000-08:00

I wonder if he wonders, or remembers. I wonder if he escapes here, or comes to get an answer.
Sometimes sightseeing experiences can vary from placidly absorbing and enjoying the day to sending us reeling into other places and times, other views and questions, other wishes.

2010-02-01T05:40:00.000-08:00

This huge painted exterior wall at the Lahore Fort is a reminder to get some inspirational art and text up on my own little wall. I've begun noticing some things about myself that have crept in like weeds and I must be careful about, certain attitudes or reactions, or a tongue close to getting a mind of its own.. Often, we must bring ourselves up - and though the feeling isn't enjoyable when I'm reflecting on my own behaviour or an annoyed moment, I feel it necessary to make conscious assessments of myself and my interaction with other people, so that I can keep striving to become the kind of person I would like to be, and remember to be 'good', as a child would put it simply.

2010-01-29T22:57:00.000-08:00

This was my view as I stood on a certain balcony in Lahore Fort one late afternoon this winter.
That's the Badshahi Mosque at the back, or 'King's Mosque' built in the 16th Century by the Mughal Empire. The Mughals were obsessed with grandeur, I believe.

2010-01-26T06:42:00.001-08:00

I got this candid shot above while visiting Lahore Fort this winter. An ancient, absolutely magnificent structure slowly crumbling spread over 20 hectares and estimated to be here as early as 1025 AD, but for the most part the parts we walked through were built in 1631 AD by a Mughal emperor.
A common lament I hear is that had it been anywhere else in the world, it would NOT have been taken for granted, and preserved. This I heard as we travelled a crowded road leading out of the city near the River Ravi (polluted) and the magnificent perimeter runs alongside, clearly in need of preservation!
I realize I didnt get many good pictures of the fort, rather I shot individual elements such as this little girl visiting with her family who I saw in a courtyard.

2010-01-25T10:59:00.000-08:00

One of the two entrances to the haveli (Nano's ancestral home) in the village.. This is the one we would rush through to greet her when we arrived from Lahore.. It opens into a small dark room with a dirt floor, where once I found my cousin calmly observing two tiny scorpions. The room opens onto a corner of the main courtyard. The picture of this ancient beautiful door tugs my heart, for the same door may not let you walk through into the same time you now cherish.
All through life, we must walk through many doors - may each door be one for lasting blessings, peace and joy! Ameen

The above images kind of make up for me knocking my cheek very hard as I tried to spy in the same dark room on a special prayer for rain held just outside, it having been a dry winter and rain so important to the farmers' crops. My mom was there too, but I think she listened or prayed alongside.The old door does not open too silently... with a crack,rather, and with the sound of the camera too, I hope I am forgiven if I am the reason someone couldnt concentrate enough on their prayers!
That reminds me of an old story of my mom's relatives - so immersed in her prayer was she, that she didnt even notice when a goat knocked over a bowl of milk right next to her. I must ask my mom - I cant remember which relative would have been praying right near a goat, and I am afraid my faulty memory sometimes does a good job of imaginatively compensating for it's little storage space. If my mind made it up, I shall come back and erase it iA :)
Anyway, These children studying at the Madrassa in the mosque opposite were luckily right in view.

2010-01-25T10:51:00.000-08:00

2010-01-24T10:21:00.000-08:00

I love it when I get to relax with chai at my favourite temperature! It IS a blessing that evokes gratefulness in me.
Especially with a good read - magazine/blog, and warmth.
So here I am reminded of a certain chai I had at my grandmother's house last month - I missed the custom of drinking from these ceramic bowls, painfully cheap (each is handmade/hand painted or stamped, and they sell for literally a few rupees each, so my heart goes out to those who make and sell these for a living).
I insisted on drinking from this, and sat stubbornly sipping from my little bowl above while the villagers sipped from their cups and mugs around me.
I let my tea go cold, so I could have the pictures and memory to keep.

2010-01-23T12:05:00.000-08:00

Fly, soar. Or fall;

There seems no other choice dear soul.

Above Pic: My grandmother's ancestral home

Soft cold, cold rain

2010-01-12T11:02:00.000-08:00

The first rain, much awaited by the region, has just begun to fall softly closing in on a truly freezing day in Lahore at midnight.
As I drink my third cup of tea today for some warmth (I rarely do three) and cozy up with some great reading, I pray for all those with no choice but to be out there experiencing every element of winter,by necessity or by poverty, may God keep them safe and warm.
One of my vague dreams is to be able to construct a shelter in Lahore for those who have none... so they may have a choice to come in for a meal and blankets.. and be safe from the streets.

Amazing.

2010-01-12T09:48:00.000-08:00

I found this so touching, I am copying here with a link to the source so I can keep it to reread:

An article in National Geographic several years ago told of this......
After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, Forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's Damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother's wings. The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies. Then the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, The mother had remained steadfast...because she had been willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.
http://www.aspiesforfreedom.com/showthread.php?tid=14921

Just a thought.

2010-01-12T09:40:00.000-08:00

Cease forever questioning, it obscures your answer.

Beautiful things said unintentionally..

2009-12-03T11:41:00.000-08:00

Often people don’t even know what a beautiful and heart rending thing they have said, that flies straight from their heart to strike a chord in another person.

Shama works as a maid at our place. In her twenties, she doesn’t know her exact age like most others who were born into poverty, and life has not given her much choice but to work for a living since she was much younger.

‘Were you ever naughty in your childhood?’ I asked her this evening.

‘I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything at all from my childhood!’ she exclaimed, and then laughed. ‘All I do remember is one thing, that I would always be playing.’

I can’t explain why this is so beautiful and sad to me at the same time.

I know there are problems, but I can’t help have fun.

2009-12-03T11:10:00.000-08:00

Imagine this. And then hope it doesn’t happen to you, except for the good part.
You finally step out of a prison.Out in the open, you’ve still got your burdens, your problems, your past, yourself to deal with and you’re clueless as to what next.
But while you stand there, look. You have time. A clock does not signify the same commands anymore.
There’s a blue sky, as marvelous as ever, but it’s suddenly got the power to capture your attention in a way that makes you grateful.
Those birds soaring, brilliant sunlight cutting through the cold air, they make you feel alive, and think up thoughts that if you could just grasp, would pull a Forest Gump of their own.
You hope you’ll come to feeling fresh and alive again.

A step back from stress, a step out of it, is a wonderful thing. Most for the fact that you can, without excuse, examine yourself and where you have faltered or decayed, and where you must go from here to be that better person you want to be. And not knowing the road you stand on on a beautiful day, and beating down fear, it’s a great place and time to start, and it should help get you there. A great friend can be a great help as a push, a guide or inspiration.

A gift : To be willing to enjoy simple everyday things, big and small, and to appreciate anew when you rediscover.

Experimenting on my best friend's wedding

2009-11-18T21:08:00.000-08:00

Above: the bride's hands on her mehndi, while she waited to go outside after signing her nikah
It was one of my best friend's wedding this past weekend. And a fun one at that. Armed with a determination to experiment with my brand new camera and get her some good giftable pics, I was right in the middle of it many times , but I didn't care, and the best thing was, my best friend would pose for me anytime, anyway, and let me be as crazy as I wanted to and do anything. I mean she's my friend for a reason, right?
Weddings are generally so staged and routine, look so much the same with the same kind of venue settings, that I appreciated anew the challenge to just get some different shots.
Now, since this was my first real time with a DSLR, I certainly didn't get the hang of it. And there is a lot of work to be done now...!

New blog on my shelf..!

2009-11-18T03:16:00.001-08:00

I had come across this blog before, and the name caught my attention.. 'High heeled foot in the door' .

I like how it portrays an honest and witty account of the author trying to get her foot into the design industry. It's not much fun or guidance reading how mega successful people use their mega successes to launch yet another mega success.. Entrepreneur success stories are always a fun and fascinating and oft inspiring read for me, and this is somehow a firsthand current account of someone's journey. Okay, so for reasons related to her 'Martha Rules' posts, I found myself trying to take out time to read them on her blog today, and when you pick up a blog or book repeatedly to finish what you were reading, then it's up there on your shelf.. for as long as youre into it at least.

One hatched dream.

2009-11-12T03:47:00.000-08:00

One happy development: I have taken steps closer to one of my dreams, by the Grace of God.
A photography class came my way, and I signed up :) I had already been scouting for a DSLR camera, and I got guidance there as well.
With an ordinary/point & shoot digital camera,here is my first assignment ..... Eggs.
Eggs, said my teacher; a photographer whose last name is synonymous with his studio established two generations ago, where legendary figures like the founder of the country Quaid-e-Azam came to get their portraits taken, eggs, he said, are the best subject to learn photography.I wasn't much surprised. My cousin, an artist, did her thesis with installations of hundreds of eggs....which totally deserves another feature, after her permission.

I admit, we are in the midst of war.

2009-10-26T02:13:00.000-07:00

This serene picture is of a portion of Pakistan's best university, LUMS, but this week the campus is vacant for unnatural reasons and the people sitting around me discuss things that no civilian should have to worry about.
I finally admit that our nation is at war, when the war on terror has come to haunt the average Pakistani whose government acceded to the American government’s pressure to go after its own volatile tribesmen- and the fallout is here, as the average Pakistani is now a targeted enemy.

Educational institutions are closed across the country because the 'International Islamic University' was attacked last week in Islamabad, which one no one predicted.

Day after tomorrow, the students will be back. I wait for them, it is unnatural walking a vibrant and renowned university that is empty because of fear.

An ordinary day starts with having my car checked, despite my ID. I feel sorry for the security guards – they are the first under threat, and a serene campus duty is no longer friendly waves
at the gate.Checking our email now brings in security updates and tips - to guard against our cars, phones and selves being hijacked and used by terrorists, and evacuation plans. Lunch hour recently had the sound of sirens being tested as they were installed.
As I practice photography, sparks fly nearby as welders reinforce boundary walls with special measures.
I am a trained volunteer MFR (Medical First Respondent), and my team and I are to get together to practice for the aftermath of a terrorist attack, practice a triage situation - what to do in a mass emergency where there are many patients, where you determine which can be saved, which cannot and therefore you move on. I argued with my instructor the first time I heard this in class, nearly in tears.

This university is thought to be the institution under biggest threat, and one feels sorry for the administration trying to do everything it can to save the innocent lives that roam this campus, wanting only to learn, live and serve their country and provide for their families.

Yet it is strange.
Outside the weather is at its best and when I look out, appreciating the view of a pond and lush green lawns and beautiful sky, I can appreciate it and feel the serenity, even as I know that I am, along with others under threat at any time, but feeling secure in my prayer, and in the now.

Life is still lived, but there is an effort to be vigilant, and a nagging fear, and everyday discussions are influenced.

There is an effort to avoid public places, even stay alert as we walk on university campus, or walk anywhere - for any suspicious package, or person. Alert students have spotted bombs near their school's boundary wall elsewhere in the country, and a policeman riding in a bus noticed a passenger next to him feel unnaturally hard (turned out he was wearing a suicide jacket), and disaster has been averted.
But the fear has been planted in everyone’s mind. Where once the elite were safe, the cities were safe, all are equal for once in this country - in a very distressing way.
Prayer is the only answer. And efforts to establish peace.

Winding Summer

2009-09-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

Summer is slowly winding. Where the shade is cool, but the sun is still too hot. I am sure there is a glorious time just before evening when the afternoon sun is warm as I like it, but I forget to experience it, or I cannot.. I am determined to get out of an office rut and live the life. Of sunshine, merriment, of waking,sleeping,eating and walking as I please, and all the time making a good living doing what I love, and making a positive difference in the lives of oh so many people. Insha Allah - God Willing.
I love to dream sometimes, and after a long absence of making up new dreams, I initially found it difficult to do so. Now I find how I have grown, how the dreams have mellowed and matured, and yet they are clearer still where they were daring.
There are clearer visions of places I want to be, somehow I am no longer into bungee jumping before I got a chance to try it out, somehow I do not want to own a zoo or a building full of persian cats, but I am now wanting to touch a redwood tree, travel the world, stand on a cliff and look down at a valley's treetops amidst the mist, and always, always be able to return 'home'.. to safety,warmth, loving family and friends, good food,good health and humour, good books, good fun and good decor.

Yet to explore..

2009-09-03T23:50:00.001-07:00

I have yet to explore Old Lahore , especially armed with a good camera. I have also yet to get a DSLR (Excellent camera, excellent price.. See my dilemma? But a nice kind of one). Any and all suggestions/advice welcome!

A friend emailed from abroad saying she would be coming in late October (to spend Winter in Lahore) and asking whether I'd be a partner to going around historical monuments in Lahore to take photographs! Am I interested? Yes!

Full of crowds,traffic and pollution, Old Lahore would require a certain determination and escorts to explore..
Here is just a reminder of what is still there, may not be for long... old architecture, hardly given a whim..

Picture:Ghomti Bazar courtesy flickr

Cuppycake recipe - tried!

2009-09-02T21:09:00.000-07:00

I found these gorgeous cupcakes pictured above, via Design Sponge, and am I glad I tried out the recipe!
I'll admit, I came across the recipe while I was fasting yesterday, and had to make them the VERY SAME DAY.
The buttercream frosting is delicious, and not to be skipped (note to self: quit skimping-out-frosting-altogether-shortcuts) especially because I cant say I liked the taste of the cake on its own.. I dont know why but the word 'industrial' kept coming to mind when I tasted just the cake.
Strange how a word can sometimes come to mind for something unrelated.

However, with the frosting, the taste is lovely, and it is a recipe to be made over again...
I am reminded of how when I was in third or fourth grade, my class used to look forward to the chocolate cupcakes that my mom would send at the end of year parties or my birthday.

Of fruitful root and yellow flowering trees

2009-09-01T20:15:00.000-07:00

Summer in Lahore brings the Amaltas trees, as they are locally called, into bloom. I love seeing these flowers, especially since few other petals are found in this scorching heat. And flowering trees, I just find beautiful.

There is a young one planted right outside my house, pleasing us with one branch of blooms this year, and everywhere I see the Amaltas, I notice them. I do not know much about them, but this has to be one of my favourite trees for summer in Lahore.
In recent years, the authorities had taken to planting imported palms along roads, and recieved much praise and criticism, but more criticism, for failing to think about what a tree in Lahore must do.

You see, there is a manual for trees in Lahore that populate the common roads..

If you are a tree considering whether Lahore is right for you, consider the following:

Have you been along the Mall Road, known the area before it belonged to a new country called Pakistan? Lahore is yours.

Are you a big tree, a tree with a big trunk to make you look like you have always been there, so that no one questions your presence?

Do you promise to give shade in the summer to all the poor who rest underneath, and to the cars that whizz by?

Would you like the sun should filter in softly through the late afternoon and evening light, and then in winter, preferably be bare and let the warm sun through so all may sit again underneath, and enjoy its warmth?

Do you agree to be dense and friendly, and shield the birds and squirrels from human eyes and predators while they hold little concerts and games everyday, and even build their nests amongst your arms?

**
Year after year, being suited to the climate, they must thrive in Lahore, having taken up a Lahori identity, calmly throwing in a little bit of quiet and green into the dust, noise and pollution.

The new sleek palms did not offer the shade, nor were they suited to the climate.

Each tree, each animal thrives in their climate.

Each human would happily thrive in a climate of their choosing, yet, many times I wonder at how we ourselves are the yield to our sowing, and whether we may in our delirium choose the best for ourselves then.
I cannot help feel it is sometimes God deciding which climate we are best suited to, and we may discover that after a storm we couldn't withstand to feel our backs nearly breaking, we are still standing, that though we wanted the sun, our roots are taking hold into winter's hard soil.

They praise the shrub and the species that thrives in unsuitable conditions.

They must not forget the human race that also struggles to take fruitful root where it is planted.

Decorated Public Transport

2009-08-19T23:17:00.000-07:00

Mystical, eccentric, larger than life are the paintings covering every inch of metal on trucks,buses and oil tankers in Pakistan. I grew up without knowing that it was unusual in other parts of the world.
My personal favourite thing to do is look for quotes written on backs of rickshaws, and sometimes trucks, often hilarious but mostly with wisdom and bittersweet wit tinged with sadness, eye openers really.
Those merit a post of their own.
A look at mostly passenger buses, that when I was small, had very loud, VERY long musical notes for a horn, very crazy and hard to describe really, from whistles and bird-screams to the kind of sounds you would hear if you handed a bunch of six year olds at a birthday a variety of musical instruments.
I hardly ever in one, but when I did in Gujrat, I remember not being able to see properly out the windows because they were in dark colorful tints!

( Pictures courtesy various sources on the internet, mostly Peter Grant's photography.)

Dunes, Sky, Action

2009-08-19T00:06:00.001-07:00

This is the kind of picture that can inspire a 'wow' for a moment.
The kind that makes you take note of the photographer.
The kind that makes you want to see something fresh and exhilirating yourself, and capture it.
This picture is by Chase Jarvis.

I love that the action puts still more emphasis on the beauty and majestic grace of the dunes and desert sky.
Soon after, I am sure, nature would have blown away the footprints of the dancer, and the sands shifted once more, unimpressed, unaffected.

Lahoris in the Rain

2009-07-23T23:55:00.000-07:00

Rain is unusual here.
So when it rains, people come out especially to watch. Just the rain. They will pull up chairs in their porch and sit, as my parents do, and their six month old grand daughter is brought out too. The wonder and solemn silence with which she sits in the lap and stares out at the clouded sky shows she is aware of its difference, aware of the glistening rain drops having their fall broken by outstretched leaves, parched from the scorching 42C sun that burns down every day and will probably do the same tomorrow. Monsoon season is a crazy season, brought to crazy people, from a humid, hot still spell it will very suddenly change to cool wind and rain, then just as suddenly go back to scorching sun.

It rains, so it is time for rainfood.

Menus are changed, quickly whipped up. Lahore loves it food deep fried, and now is the time to have hot oily food that you simply cannot want to eat in the heat otherwise. Every vendor knows it is the time for samosas and pakoras, every household knows it, and somewhere people will even make curry out of gramflour and drop in pakoras – and a university community will troop in to eat, facing the windows as they do. Tea is a common addiction, every couple of hours on the hottest days,but today it is cradled as if it were a rare treat.

It rains, and people leave their work to gather outside under a dripping veranda .

They will watch the ground, they will watch any one who is out in it. Lahoris will always look amused at umbrellas when they see one, despite legendary fierce sunshine and despite the crazy monsoon rain that comes down like a white unrelenting sheet, they still consider them as eccentric pieces depicting an unnecessary fuss.
And even if all there is opposite is a building, today they see and feel. People who otherwise succumb to the mundane without a thought, never changing their routine or adding something new, will somehow for an hour, for as long as it rains, wake up.

They will suddenly smell the earth, the rain, they will suddenly be grateful for every scent of steaming food and wet earth. They will suddenly be spontaneous, and they will suddenly feel, and take a walk in the rain, laugh with delight when they get soaked after a ‘necessary’ few steps to get from A to B,and then brandish their damp clothes like armour, or put out their hands gingerly and draw them back in to examine the rain-drop on their palm. They will suddenly see, and look at the silent trees around them that commanded attention but got none before, and beauty in leaves that are shades greener with the dust washed off of them. Yes, that is it. One of the most polluted cities will have its dust beaten down by heaven-sent crystals, and the skies, those purple-grey cloudy skies seem clear and beautiful.
Even the traditional red brick buildings of college buildings are beautiful to look at, for they turn a deep red when wet, and send out an earthy smell of bricks that remind you of things as you pass by.
They will even get all romantic and imagine new scents.

Yes there is a mess of mud and traffic, children swimming in roads flooded because the gutters do not work without a care of contamination, wild boys jumping into the muddy canal running through the city just so they can swim in the rain, but people generally love rain here.

Lahoris feel sorry for those who cannot enjoy rain, those who have come from climates where it rains all the time, they feel sorry for them having to miss out on the ‘seeing’ and pleasure that comes with rain and changes the feel of an everyday, changes moods, and they also feel sorry for them having to live with rain as an almost daily occurence.

For you see, much as Lahoris love their rain, they don’t want it everyday. And much as they love to complain about their sun, they would rather have it everyday.

Above Pic featured by Daily Times: Lahore: A green belt near the canal inundated with rain water.

Playing : Fantasy LUMS tree

2009-06-12T03:27:00.000-07:00

Going towards..

A tree's fantasy DNA.

Surreal Ochre

The original pic.

I often like to take pictures and store them for when I want to play around in Adobe and see what they may become.

On a Friday afternoon, with some time to spare.. I wanted to see an ordinary picture of this tree I took in LUMS a little differently.

Photographed: Because I see you.

2009-06-05T01:18:00.000-07:00

Location: The LUMS University Mosque.

Just returned from here after a Friday prayer break, on a hot afternoon, and was reminded of this picture I took some months ago. No one really notices these, but I liked the random yet chic composition of what I saw.

These little chairs are there for those who cannot kneel, and pray while sitting. My mother also prays while seated because of arthritis, but misses being able to kneel.

Last week, I did not pray with the congregation. But I still caught a special glimpse.

As every forehead touches the ground in humility and submission to God, it is a touching sight of unity, of people grouped shoulder to shoulder in neat rows, but all eyes are downcast, and they do not acknowledge what goes around them and they may not even be aware, as you stand watching people devote themselves in unison for a few minutes to submit to and connect with God.

The most magnificent sight of this is ofcourse, the millions of pilgrims at the Holy Kaabah in Makkah, nearly all in identical attire, and as an ocean of human beings goes down on one haunting call, rises, and then bows again,you cannot help but feel this is something special, and a magnificent show.

I can tell you that amongst the moving sea of millions, neat rows form spontaneously within minutes or seconds, and you fall into place to line your shoulders with the next, rich and poor from every country, presidents and peasants who have saved all their lives and come in old age, all must be equal here, and as the prayer starts, you can only hear the haunting recitation of the Muezzin, and your thoughts if you cannot silence them(but you must try), and other than children crying(because, well, who can explain to them?) there is, when the Muezzin is silent, a rustling hush over the crowd that is amazing because of the sheer magnitude and length for which it carries.

Fave from Stylists: Raw and jewelled

2009-05-29T03:30:00.000-07:00

Featuring: Beverly Hyde

The idea, the photography.. Oh, I like!

Bomb explosions and beautiful homes

2009-05-26T21:54:00.001-07:00

A little while ago, there was a sudden strange bang at the window. Instinctively, I associated it with another sound I had heard last year which had been bigger with much more force; when there had been a huge bomb blast on Mall Road, quite far away, a suicide bombing with a truck full of explosives that had blown away Intelligence headquarters.

That had been a far off thud, a feeling that somewhere had been a very very loud explosion,and then a feeling as if an invisible force had collided hard against the window, (I thought a football might have been kicked hard straight at my window) and then complete silence while the sun continued to shine in a bright blue sky. At that time I knew I had never heard something like it, and this was a similar sound though much less force.

I was worried again.
I opened the blinds, and everything seemed the same.

A colleague right near me did not notice busy with his photocopying, and as I stepped out and asked a few others near windows if they had heard or felt anything, ("Was there a bang at the window here?" to puzzled looks) I relaxed when they had not. I did not want to alarm them. Then twenty minutes later I heard that there has indeed been an explosion on Mall Road. It is far away, and my colleagues are amazed I felt it.

Guess what I am doing?
After an initial prayer and thankfulness for our safety, and a call home to ask my family to stay home for the day, I want to go straight back to checking out beautiful relaxing photos of beautiful homes as a slight head and ear ache comes on, just pyschological as the sound echoes in my mind.

Why??

I have asked myself this before.

Afterall there is a huge crisis in the country, - a war in the scenic northern areas of Pakistan as the army finally moves into areas terrorized by militants distorting Islam’s teachings, causing a huge wave of nearly 2 million people fleeing the crisis and in dire straits in the extreme heat and poor conditions.

One could feel slightly guilty over wanting to be immersed in and taking delight in beautiful interior and design pictures that reflect luxury.

But I realize what it is about loving to look through beautiful pictures of homes: Not just a love of aesthetics but dreams and desires reflected : Peace, security, happiness and comfort, and identity. Serene, entertaining mirrors to human life, if you will.

Home is, or is supposed to be, the ultimate haven, where we can just be. Be safe and free to be our selves especially.
And it’s okay to want that, and only natural in times like this.

Whatever the budget, location, style – any place is home that holds beautiful hearts at peace with themselves and one another – living and letting live.

I wish Pakistan and all the countries of the world would just become home then.

Fave From Stylists

2009-05-19T21:05:00.000-07:00

Featuring : Jenni Booth.

I was led to her work when reading an interview of Pia Jane Bijkerk. Pia started her career assisting this stylist, and credits her with what she learned, so naturally I wanted to see Jenni's work.

This is my favourite picture from her portfolio.

As far as the aesthetically inclined oxygen molecules in me go; this took my breath away. Just for a fraction of a second, while I forgot to worry about getting on that plane and demanding it take to me to the Maldives for my lunch hour. Elegant, fancy, oh so up my alley, that look!

I have a regular,old black trunk in my bedroom that I love to keep. Some people suggested I get it out of there. But I just like it.
But I may just polish the brass on it now. And drag it to Lahore Airport and ask to have my picture taken with my trunk, here, like that….

Sky, Dunes, Action

2009-04-01T02:58:00.000-07:00

This is the kind of picture that can inspire feeling.
The one that makes you take note of the photographer.
The kind that makes you want to see something fresh and exhilirating yourself, and capture it. This picture is by Chase Jarvis.

I love that the action puts still more emphasis on the beauty and majestic grace of the dune and desert sky. Soon after, I am sure, nature would have blown away the footprints of the dancer, and the sands shifted once more, unimpressed, unaffected.

Squint

2008-12-28T23:23:00.000-08:00

Delightfully eccentric and stylish at the same time, Squint is Lisa Whatmough's success story of merging various textiles with furniture to create one off pieces that showcase a new dimension to traditional upholstering. I particularly like the graceful tone in the above pic, and the bold armchair below !

Even a chandelier gets the treatment:

Warm Light, Apple Pies and Gratefulness.

2008-12-13T23:37:00.000-08:00

Feeling down, I am making myself think back to a few nights before when I could not help be grateful.
A warm glow from the kitchen illuminated the last slice of a warm delicious apple pie Mama made and that ended up as my late dinner - rivers of cream cascading down, and sitting in the semi darkness a welcome but sadly forgotten feeling came: gratefulness suddenly filled me.Cradling my tea, I realized I havent often felt grateful in so long, and suddenly I savored every blessing, and it felt wonderful.

Silently loving the people in my life, grateful that they slept soundly nearby, or that they must be happily and safely - I hoped- busy in a different time zone somewhere far, I thought of things - good things, positive things, that somehow at that moment had the power to outweigh heavy burdens and shine bright enough to light me up even as things seem dark and dim.

Sadly, today is not a similar case, but that magic feeling made me happy - and perfect or not - I loved myself, my gifts and my very own room for its comfort,happy that there was this space for me in the world, even as entire families live in single rooms less than half the size, that many out there were feeling cold and hungry, and I was aware, drifting into sleep under cozy blankets,

that while I had my burdens, I have much to be grateful for, and much to love about me and my life, and that I had God to thank - for blessing us Kindly,Patiently even while I can be oblivious.

And even as we like to be appreciated for whatever we may give someone, and may be angered by the lack there-of !

Above painting by Erin Pendleton

Taking an eternal delight in all things we loved to do

2008-11-18T21:18:00.000-08:00

This picture brings a smile.. All of these things I loved to do everyday of my childhood life..!

The exhiliration of riding a bicycle every single time...

the pride I took in learning how to ride by myself finally after numerous falls I was determined to get through. My older cousin did try to teach me, but when I looked back to discover he had given me a running push and let go ; I panicked at the thought of riding on my own and crashed. Theres a beautiful lesson involved in learning how to ride a bicycle.. in the end - you have to get there by building enough confidence to do it yourself,determination and never giving up until you learn how to ride!! Oh and when I finally did.. the reward was sweet,pure joy every single time.

I was lucky enough to have a pair of swings installed by my Dad in a large backyard, and various little one act-plays with a cousin including the climax scene of a dramatic fall off the swing were enacted.

A slat of natural wood is the most beautiful swing seat in my opinion.

And the birds and cats agreed.

The birds and I shared these swings, as did every visiting child.

My first cat is fondly etched in memory in a single moving motion: Sitting up very straight on a swing that he had managed to set fast in motion by taking a running jump, enjoying every minute and a regular comical sight outside my window going back and forth, back and forth..

No hillside wild flowers ever grew in my grass, but if anything, it gave me an appreciation of weeds, a stronger imagination, and sporadic efforts at pressing in flowers randomly to see what it would look like if there were flowers.. and tiny golden mushrooms that sprouted during monsoon were a welcome delight!

I loved overgrown grass and had many an argument trying to keep the lawn from getting mowed. Clipped grass: short and spiky … but the longer: -the greener, the softer .. lusher.. I know the difference well..
Way back in school my mother came across the idea that walking on dew laden grass is good for the health… the eyes especially.
And so in the pink rays of a rising sun, a very sleepy schoolgirl would have to walk barefoot on cold wet grass.. the dew drops visibly glistening on blades that had somehow unruffled themselves through the night- .. I’d begin by complaining , soles sensitive to the cold and sometimes spiky blades (if the lawnmower had roared over them) - and always end with my eyes wide open – fully aware of a morning unfolded and very much in tune with nature, enjoying the squishy green between my toes!

A quote I liked when I was growing up and, I feared, away from my simple little pleasures and rights to just be – just play, just be silly, just laugh, just get up and be spontaneous was the perfect counter for friends who were suddenly too old or too lazy as we went along our teens :

We do not stop playing because we grow old;
We grow old because we stop playing.

Been Away !!

2008-10-07T02:30:00.000-07:00

I've been away from the internet and my blog these past few weeks, owing to a visit to Makkah and Madina in Saudi Arabia and now a flu/fever ...

I returned to see I have been missing out an award and on numerous subsequent visits owing to a wonderful surprise award from Linda at Lime in the Coconut, to whom I am grateful :) ,especially since my blog is so new - Thanks Linda! :)

My apologies to all, and I hope to recover and be up and posting for you soon,iA !

A touch of glam in chic little tables

2008-08-21T03:47:00.000-07:00

I found myself frustrated by the choice of bedside tables that I saw in the market and even online.. for my own room, I'd prefer something chic and glamorous... Something that isnt sidelined but is confident enough holding its own in style by the room's focal point.

I've decided on something like these mirrored ones above.

Displaying books in artsy ways

2008-08-19T01:59:00.000-07:00

Miles Redd

Oh, you don't have to own them all... Just a sense of appreciation.

Escape with tea-at-your-favorite-temperature and some pillows by a pretty window with a book you feel like reading, and there's only the question :

Did my passion for books make me search for the perfect decor that pays homage to them, or does the sight of a stylish space with books as a focus suddenly invite me to a childhood pleasure forgotten?

I like a contemporary approach to displaying books in shelves - rather than row upon row of books, I'd go for mixing beautiful art and objects in with a selection of books. Now that's a fun and crazy way to shop- 'Do you think this plate/hat/eccentric decoration piece would look good with my books??' ;)

To illustrate (images from Domino):

Notice the famed photography prints placed on the floor. I like the silver vase as an element of interest, though I would like to balance this arrangement out for more interest.

There's something retro about the above image. Notice the colour coordination and deliberate stacking of books imperfectly to give a casual feel.

Above: Bold, unexpected and interesting with some colourful textiles thrown in!

Lots of books pile up to form a side table here - again, with some art. This is also a good, attractive storage solution. Just pile up books attractively in empty spaces - low piles under a table in your entryway or living room, by the window, or a few piles of varying heights with decorative objects such as lamps or a picture frame placed on top.

Memories of a Rural Ancestral Village.

2008-07-30T23:53:00.000-07:00

There is a reverent name by which my grandmother’s village is called, by the few who know it. It is an hour’s drive from the teeming city of Gujrat (3 hrs from Lahore) towards Azad Kashmir.

I wish it were still as beautiful for you to visit, but the truth is that I shall tell it to you from memory – until only a decade or two ago, this place was mystical and charming, still might be, but my grandmother is no longer, there is electricity, and the people have grown up different..

Enter off a lone road, down a narrow uncomfortable dirt track you navigate by gently nudging a very stubborn flock of goats and sheep with the car, who take no notice of the horn and your presence (Do not try it with the buffaloes).
From afar, the batch of mud and redbrick houses is alluring, enter and suddenly you are in a very narrow brick lane, and you take the lanes that can squeeze in your car, open drains on either side running along and medieval towns are no longer a strange picture in history, but very real. Hardship is etched into the lines and threadbare dhotis of the old women and men bent double, but then hardship is etched into the faces of many people across Pakistan, and you will be surprised at the meaning of faces conveying stories, stories you know you don’t want to hear because of how they will make you feel.

At the very end of the village, the last house is huge and covers the perimeter of all the houses behind it, so that when you turn the last lane round the corner, you have only the house, or ‘haveli’ stretching out on one side, and opposite is the mosque, the ‘mazaar’ , and the well driven by oxen, buffaloes tied, and behind all these, the fields open and go on forever. In the background, you can barely make out the purple outline of the mountains of Kashmir.

We break into a run knowing our grandmother is inside, Nano,(are all maternal grandmothers as special and angelic as mine?? ) She is inside, losing her sight,partially blind, fiercely independent, and she is surprised, then breaks into her very musical laugh as she hears the children run up to her and hug her.

There was no telephone in the house see, and she is in the midst of supervising the chattering village women squatting on the ground, who come frequently to pay homage, and gather in the courtyard to talk and help her with various activities.Suddenly a proud rooster is scooped up from the ground, and a few minutes later, two of the women are plucking out the dead bird’s feathers, preparing him for a very strong flavored simple chicken broth, simple and light, but loaded with chillies, and the flavor of a free bird that fed on organic scraps and clean air. The rotis to go with it, will come out of the ‘tandoor’ oven in the ground, in the courtyard. The cat meanwhile eyes them, slinking nearby. At night she will disturb the tin dishes while we sleep nearby on charpais, underneath a black sky FILLED with stars, something I still have not witnessed anywhere else – I didn’t know it was possible to see so many stars, or that there were so many. Until drops of rain falling on our face wake us and force us to move into the verandas, where at 8 AM we will find the village women sitting on our charpais chattering amazed at how we are still sleeping after the sun has risen.

Sharing pictures of my grandmother’s house today... She had the most musical laugh I have ever heard, and the most generous spirit I personally knew – the way to make her happy was to bring her gifts she could give away to poor villagers. Combine that with pragmatism, and forgetting your belongings at her place meant you had just given to charity unwittingly.

Above: The courtyard of my grandmother's house, where the village women would gather around to gossip, and do chores. The pillar has a rod from which hung a wire basket to keep food well aired, and away from cats!
In the bottom right corner(Not fully pictured) is the Tandoor (clay oven) in the ground for making Rotis.. the bread sticks to the hot walls and is done by the flames in a minute or two.

Above: The view from the verandah going around the courtyard.

Above: One of the main entrances... An intricate carved wooden door leads into a small mud floored room that opens into the courtyard.