A Day to Remember : Monuments and Paintings

Today I, along with some students, had the fortune of attending "Clean Monument Campaign", a clean up drive and a poster making competition organised by INTACH (Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage) and BTDT (Been there Doon that).
The clean up drive comprised of cleaning the surroundings of a monument known as "Samadhi Sthal" meaning cemetery. The ashes of a leader of "Udasi" culture are buried and a monument is constructed over it for paying respect and remembrance. Udasi is a religious, ascetic sect of Sikhism.

Since more students and volunteers showed up than expected, which is a rather good thing, the gloves fell short. So, some of us lent one of our gloves, so two people could wear a pair of gloves, as each one wore one on their right hand. It was a good sight, seeing so many people working together to protect our heritage.

Pic credits : Been there Doon that

After the clean up drive, the students were divided into two groups, which in turn got to attend a lecture from  Mrs. Shipra, Superintendent at the Archaeological Survey Of India. I don't know about the others, but for me, it was certainly a treat to the ears. She told us about the different layers of paintings in different schools. For example, a method called surkhi is used typically in Rajasthani and Garhwal schools of paintings. She told us about different types of damages inflicted on the monuments by either human or natural activities.

Pic credits : Been there Doon that

A specific question I wanted to ask her was that if the material used is not available, then how is the restoration done. She told me that the material used is analysed in every way possible and then they try to form the same material for the restoration. If the case is as I mentioned above, the material is not available, then the artifact is preserved as it is.
After that, a poster making competition was held. I painted an archway, which was really beautiful.

Overall, today was a day I will remember fondly.

Dark and stormy night

The weather had turned stormy overnight. The wind howled as the sky lit up in a flash, then everything went back in oblivious darkness. He pulled the duvet over his head, closing his eyes shut tightly, trying to picture things he'd like to see. A tree fell in the street with a thud, startling him. He wondered when his parents would be back home. He shivered in the cold, the duvet wasn't warm enough, so he curled up in a ball and started to imagine what it would be like to be an astronaut.

Expectations

Writing.
A word I often say when I'm asked what do i like to do. And it's the truth. Well, most of the time.
I love to write. Creating something from nothing, that is what it feels like. But you know, anything is easy when you're doing it just for fun, but as soon as expectations get involved (even your own), it turns into something tedious. Something too tough to pursue. Think about it. It applies to everything: writing, painting, acting even playing. Ever thought about what kind of pressure the people on the field feel as they have the expectations all the whole country bundled up on their shoulders. How different would it have been when they used to play with their friends, just for fun. No doubt, when they win and fulfill the expectation, the success is sweeter than a match with their friends, but that isn't what we are talking about, is it?

As for me, I feel like the expectations I've put for myself are an awful lot, but the problem is I can't seem to lessen them. In a way, it's a blessing in disguise, because if I can't lessen the expectations, I can't give up writing, the only way is to fulfill those expectations, right? That's what I think. I'll be taking part in NaNoWriMo this year too, but the different thing I expect than the last two years is that I expect to win. New expectation, see? But this one feels good to have. I've just had a special someone tell me that I should write a book, and I should start writing it 'now'. Besides mine, I have someone else's expectations too, to fulfill. And, I will fulfill those expectations, because I believe that I can get better at writing.

I have a lot of favourite poems, but I'd end this blogpost with the first line as well as the title of one that I really like.
"Hope is the thing with feathers-"

Starting "Fangirl"

So...I've just started reading Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. I've read only 2 chapters so far, but I can tell it's going to be one of my favourites.
Here's the summary-

Cath is a Simon Snow fan.

Okay, the whole world is a Simon Snow fan...

But for Cath, being a fan is her life—and she’s really good at it. She and her twin sister, Wren, ensconced themselves in the Simon Snow series when they were just kids; it’s what got them through their mother leaving.

Reading. Rereading. Hanging out in Simon Snow forums, writing Simon Snow fan fiction, dressing up like the characters for every movie premiere.

Cath’s sister has mostly grown away from fandom, but Cath can’t let go. She doesn’t want to.

Now that they’re going to college, Wren has told Cath she doesn’t want to be roommates. Cath is on her own, completely outside of her comfort zone. She’s got a surly roommate with a charming, always-around boyfriend, a fiction-writing professor who thinks fan fiction is the end of the civilized world, a handsome classmate who only wants to talk about words... And she can’t stop worrying about her dad, who’s loving and fragile and has never really been alone.

For Cath, the question is: Can she do this?

Can she make it without Wren holding her hand? Is she ready to start living her own life? Writing her own stories?

And does she even want to move on if it means leaving Simon Snow behind?

******

I'm really really liking this book. Anyway, I should probably just go back to reading. And yeah, I was thinking of writing a review after finishing the book. I hope I do write it, because I usually consider myself underqualified to write a review, which is stupid of me since I know anyone can write their views on a book, plus I can write anything on my blog. 

Anyway, have a good day. 

Bye!

Walking in the Woods : A poem

Walking in the Woods

The twigs and leaves
cracked under his feet
but he moved along
noticing every weed

The sun climbed the horizon
and did so softly
He plucked thorns from himself
and moved along deftly

He looked at everything
yet saw nothing.
The melody inside his head,
the way she used to sing.

The pine leaves.
left spaces for sunlight to fall
And her voice, what reminded him of it,
was the bird's call.

~Punya

Your Wake Up Call.

I haven't written anything on here for a while. I liked this video and I think it's something I should share. :)

Dereliction

Words are fragments

Of our thoughts

Which we try 

To save from dereliction

World is cruel

Tainted, things are 

Gregariousness,

Is only a facade.

Hatred is smeared

On the character

Of every 

Person.