Inspired by the rain-washed light

Dear Friend,

Keen tempered caterpillars are voraciously devouring leaves, eager to go into deep meditation. They would later wake up as glorious butterflies. Clouds are thinning. It has been quite sunny for the past couple of days. So, finally, inspired by the glowing rain-washed sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, I pick up the camera and flirt around with the knobs. Time to see, and capture… and write. I was reminded by a friend, that the blog has been quiet for a long time. Can’t say it never occurred to me, but sometimes it’s difficult. With no particularities affectioning eagerness in support of my absence, I humbly apologize, although it would be nice to know that I was missed. The ‘I’ here referring to the words, that right now, for instance, quite keenly leave my body with the dance of my fingers upon the keyboard… I wish you could see… and the images of course. I have some other images to share as well. Went high up in the mountains again. The highest that I’ve yet been. Spectacular, to say the least.

There is nothing spectacular about a home though. It is, however, most likely this lack of spectacularity that keeps me here. One can quietly go on travelling as one pleases, and meet all kinds of interesting characters… all kinds of aspirations and movements…

leafy sanctuaries, a tailor bird rests for a moment before hopping away…

A babbler, alone somehow, looks greedily for little worms to gobble up…

A cabbage white, as agile as it gets, stops for a moment to lay eggs and gift the garden more of those hairy leaf-devouring caterpillars…

…then there are those master weavers… weaving silky traps for those who fail to notice the incredible rainbows slipping around on the fine threads, as the web dangles in the breeze…

I have been experiencing a conceptual degeneration in my mindscape, as the university fades out in my understanding of myself… dreams have started acquiring the deepest colors again… there’s music… there’s music… there’s music…
Somehow I want this to be a letter now, so that is how I’ll take your leave… hope to hear from you.

Much love,
Prashant Nawani

PS: I did a guitar performance the other day. I am more of a songster now. Here’s a picture.