Chasing the shadows...

Whose is it anyway?
The shadows that surface as I chase the light
Or the light that surfaces as I chase the shadows…
How can I be so certain of not getting it and yet keep running
Or is it you who comes after me?

the coming together...

of bounds and unboundedness

enveloped boundaries

locating the I in You

Summer

few steps...

For more of my photoart/photographs check out my photostream on flickr-http://www.flickr.com/photos/46720833@N07/

Standing Alone

"beginning of new life"

"made this as a gift for someone who was getting married..."

calender 2009

madmen

"Cause I'd rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sadmen roaming free
And I'd rather play here
With all the madmen
For I'm quite content they're all as sane
As me"
-David Bowie

slaughter house

" har taraf har jagah beshumar aadmi, phir bhi tanhaiyon ka shikaar aadmi
subah se shaam tak bojh dhota hua ,apni hi laash ka khud mazaar aadmi
har taraf bhaagte daudhte raaste, har taraf aadmi ka shikaar aadmi
roz jeeta hua roz marta hua ,har naye din naya intezar aadmi
zindagi ka mukkaddar safar dar safar ,aakhri saans tak bekaraar aadmi"
- a ghazal by Nida Fazli (sung by Jagjit Singh in an album 'Sajda')
Who is to blame.... we are they and they are us....
Anyone can be the next in this carnage of humanity...

intertwined

Its her right to be liberated from AIDS

"Too big too soon"

Are We Game?

Brands keep creating needs and target the youth........Are we game??

scarecrow

THE SILENCE SPEAKS VOLUMES

53% of children in India are sexually abused
.. 72% of these children do not talk about it and suffer in silence

find support at : www.rahifoundation.org
find more info at : http://recoveringfromabusiveincest.blogspot.com
contribute at: www.supportrahi.com

(me and anuja ma'am (founder- RAHI {Recovering And Healing From Incest}) with the posters I made for the cause for the half Delhi marathon (9.11.08)

friends

for sonal on her bday(17th oct)... sonal has been a gr8 frend ever since we've known each other..
she was like a mother in the hostel..and even now.. always concerned abt my careless ways..

Are We Ants??

India tops the global figures in ROAD DEATHS....
probably even ants don't get trampled so frequently

vanishing daughters

the confinement of womanhood....right from the womb...

"United in Hate"

so engrossed we are in hate that we do not realise that we are bombing the earth on which we are surviving....

Journey to the Self

In order to reach urself u need to travel an entire universe both inside and outside of you....

am not happy with this work... one of my worst nonetheless i thought ppl shd see the bad works too... another charcoal work...

read somewhere that artists must do atleast 5 sketches a day... so i made some quick charcoal sketches...few days back...

A rough charcoal sketch i did at the rajiv chowk metro station for my cute pal vinay !!

relations

ambiguity in perception

(nokia 7610 + editing with picasa)

'Foot.... Hills .....Embryo .......Sad/lonely person sitting with head in the lap..... ...Desert.......Mountain...'
...images of my hand against a plain background(wall) and later edited with picasa (adding basic effects such as tints, glows, black & white or sepia.)

the cutting edge

'the cutting edge'
(scissors on the paper's edge?? its actually scissors against the background of a ceiling's edge!! )
[nokia 7610, 1 megapixel]

safar

1 megapixel (nokia 7610)
gorakhpur to delhi from the train's window... for more pics in this series visit:
http://picasaweb.google.com/ananyakushwaha/Safar

on a rainy day

moblie camera 1 megapixel (nokia 7610)
for more pics that i clicked the same day visit my web album:
http://picasaweb.google.com/ananyakushwaha/RainyDayPics

tree of life

a rough skecth i made while doodling few days back... and that amazes me in many ways...
of course one of it is perception....

woman

i made this on my way home last summer with dry brush and paint... later added the eyes with oil pastels...

existentialism

the feeling of having been thrown into this world...and that one has no choice over it... other than the paradoxical freedom of choice to make whatever we can make of it...

rahul bhaiya

love cards

some love cards id made for selling on the hostel Guest night... never sold them though so they serve as a part of my art collection... though they were done mostly with a commercial intention.... :-))

the hand that drew

this post got deleted somehow.. clicked its pic from my mobile so its not very clear.... had made this watercolor image of my own hand at Shivika's place last winter.

"V" speaks for itself...

"V " speaks for itself... the horrors of its times...
V know it the best through the horrors of our times...

my first oil on canvas

(not a clear pic due to camera inefficiency) .... my first oil on canvas....
someone's left this place... gone forever... or maybe dead...

to see more pics i clicked at my village check out the following link:
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/ananyakushwaha/VillagePics02

Sometimes there seems to be so much to be said…
But words just don’t seem to flow.
And when sometimes they do push through -
-To be verbalized,
The mind just doesn’t let go.

Its strange that I wonder so
But often those questions occur to me
Why, the more I want from you
The more you fulfill for me.
And even when I make things difficult too
You somehow always sail us through.

I wonder why I matter at all…
Why don’t you just shatter my hopes?
Why not hurt where it’s always hurt the most
Why don’t you let me be, why don’t you let me fall?
Why do I matter at all??

-Ananya Kushwaha

When every moment, everyday, you echo in my system
I wonder if you think of me once in every autumn.
Thousand times in thousand ways, of thousand things I think of you
And wonder if into your thoughts my thoughts do ever blossom.

Every night, in every dream, in every face I look for you
And wonder if you notice me in that hazy land of black and blue.
I close my eyes to catch a glimpse; your image eludes me all the time
I see the lips, the nose I see, but eyes evade your paradigm.

In every song, in every word, is everything I do not say
And wonder if you’ll bring to life the dead I bury everyday…
In all of that and everything I wonder if there’s light at all
And everyday I put it out for hope is painful anyway….

Everyday, in every dream, I look again to look for me
And wonder if I still do smile in the shattered pieces that I see;
Every time your eyes evade my dreams arise to be set free
I ponder when you’ll echo again and I’ll dissolve and cease to be.

It’s a song I cannot sing,
A tune I must not hum;
But every time I walk alone,
My eyes just don’t keep mum.

It’s everytime that I don’t think
I am only thinking of you;
When everytime I turn around
You are all I am looking through.

It’s a dream I must not see,
And dreams I have but few;
But everytime I notice me
It’s just not me its you.

A million people walk my world,
There are thousand things to do;
But of everything that there can be
All I can feel is you.

You are the song I must not sing,
The tune I must not hum,
The dream I must not see;
But dreams I have just few…

-Ananya Kushwaha

turmoil

this guy chetan keswani...almost a buddy now... wanted me to make something supposing that the question was him....what my answer would be like... i think it'd be like this... for u chetan... its like a cyclonic chaos...ur life and its parts are entangled around one center...i dont know what center is...maybe an experience...maybe a person...maybe u urself... whatever it is....everything mind u evrything is sucked into it....and i think somehow sometime if ur able to come out of it....u'll see light.... hope that suffices....

In retrospect....

reminiscence, past times....nostalgic....winters,greens,love.....lanes of my memory...

hrithik roshan

a sketch i made
when i was in 10th standard ......my lil cousin bro was after my life to put this one up on my blog .....so here it is....

burqua

i tried capturing the lady in burqua(top left) in oil pastels....something about her struck me....my first attempt at coloured portrait.....still exploring oil pastels....(the photo of the lady was published in sunday times 5/11/06)

the dancer

a quick sketch of a spic macay dancer who performed in my college on 2nd nov '06..... something abt her wanted me to capture her art in my art....and luckily i had a pencil in my pocket!!

maaya...

some picture that my mind made yesterday....i found a lot of serenity and peace in doing this...wat say?

despair