Sometimes late at night I go out on a stroll to buy some cigarettes. I climb down the stairs and go to the road beside our home. Then i have to walk for a minute to reach the shops on the main road. I have to pass a fast food corner on my way. at that time I find the boys of the shop have finished working. Sometimes they are washing some utensils and if I get a bit late, they are making their beds. but they play a radio at that time. The soft sound of the old Hindi songs mixed with the night attracts me a lot, more than any of their food. I want to capture and present that moment through my scribbles, but I don't know how.
This morning, while going to attend my morning class at IMS, I saw a boy picking up shiuli flowers beneath the tree. The nocturnal flower leave the plant and adorn the ground on the onset of dawn.
I felt the boy's innocence seeing him collecting the beautiful and sweet smelling flowers. I remembered, once I was also like him. With the other children I used to collect the flowers. now the tree is not there. and my friends have lost.
Anyway, I like the scene. And wanted to capture and present that through my scribbles, but again,I don't know how.