First attempt at painting.

Because, why not?

Largely an attempt to imitate this painting - http://dianehoeptner.blogspot.com/2011/09/second-thoughts-original-oil-painting.html

Day 1 : (~ 2 hours of effort, first coat of acrylic paints) 

Day 2 : (~ 5 hours of effort on the left and right flower, and debating on whether that fruit should be turned into an orange or not... still not sure.)

Need to really get the middle flower right and make sure that the orange slice doesn't look like a midgety banana anymore

Update : Day 3 : ~2 hours of effort on the middle flower, and added petals. The background was changed to something creamish to highlight the flowers more. It seems to look better now and even
though I'm not entirely happy with it, it will do. I need to give more depth to the apple, and of course, fix the banana/orange slice. The shadows need to be fixed, and vase needs more depth as well.

And finally,: Day 4 :~ with about an hour of effort, the orange was fixed (made much differently from that in the painting, perhaps a little more artificial), and the vase and table look better. I think that's that for me on this painting. I really exceeded my expectations, which is great, and I think I'll get this framed :)

Kartiek Agarwal.

ہر ایک درد کی دوا : فیض احمد فیض

پھر کوئی آیا ، دل زار ؛ نہیں ، کوئی نہیں
راہ رو ہوگا ، کہیں اور چلا جاےگا
ڈھل  چکی رات، بکھرنے لگا تاروں کا غبار ،
لڑکھڑانے لگے ایوانوں میں خوابیدہ چراغ ،
سو گیی راستہ تک تک کے ہر ایک راہ گزار
اجنبی خاک نے دھندھلا دے قدموں کے سراغ ،
گل کرو شمعیں ، بڑھا دو می و مینا و ایاغ ،
اپنے بے خواب کواڈون کو مقفل کر لو
اب یہاں کوئی نہیں ، کوئی نہیں، اے گا

- تنہائی میں ، فیض احمد فیض

फिर कोई आया दिल-ए -ज़ार , नहीं कोई नहीं
राह-राउ होगा, कहीं और चला जाएगा
ढल चुकी रात, बिखरने लगा तारों का ग़ुबार
लरखड़ाने लगे एवानों में ख्वाबीदा चिराग
सो गयी रास्ता तक तक के हर एक राह गुज़ार
अजनबी ख़ाक ने धुंधला दिए क़दमों के सुराग़
गुल करो शमाएँ, बढ़ा दो माय-ओ-मीना-ओ-अयाग़
अपने बेख्वाब किवाड़ों को मुक़फ़्फ़ल  कर लो
अब यहां कोई नहीं, कोई नहीं, आयेगा ।

तन्हाई में, फैज़ अहमद फैज़

Suggested Translation : (By Agha Shahid Ali)

Someone, finally, is here! No, unhappy heart, no one -
just a passerby on his way.
The night has surrendered
to clouds of scattered stars.
The lamps in the hall waver.
Having listened with longing for steps,
the roads too are fast asleep.

A strange dust has buried every footprint.
Blow out the lamps, break the glasses, erase
all memory of wine. Heart,
bolt forever your sleepless doors,
tell every dream that knocks to go away.
No one, now no one will ever come here.

Note : I wish our school curriculum had more poetry of Faiz Ahmed Faiz - there is really no one quite like him. I read somewhere that Nehru was a big fan of Faiz and personally requested him as much to stay back in India during the partition. Apparently, Faiz replied that he would've loved to live in Delhi but his wife's heart was set in Lahore.

Note : It is a grave injustice to Hindi itself that it must be restricted within the confines of words of Sanskrit origin. This is never how Hindustani was spoken, and the post-partition Sankritisation of Hindustani is remorseful. There can be no good reason to cull the richness of a language by rejecting a huge part of it's vocabulary, especially one that is closer to the spoken language. Second, the prudish nature of Indian society has permeated into the school system in such a way, that there is no room for poetry that talks about grief, wine, or women - but really, what is poetry without them?