The red wedding bed was a catafalque of colour, made of flowers hand-picked by Forest Department rangers from their own departmental forest. Jasmine and marigold were tied up with green leaves, covering Ram Dhakeli like a jelly fish. She sat in the middle of the white, marigolden and green, sleepy-eyed waiting for MD-saab to part the flowers and step into her garden patch.

When MD-saab lifted the white-marigolden-green veil and called out her name Ram Dhakeli shivered as a strong chill rose from the virgin mound between her legs, hula-hooped around her middle and then erupted like a psychedelic bomb inside her head. It gave her a feral headiness that she’d never known before.

But the knight of the car-o-baraat looked strained and unsure as he unshoed himself and fell face down into Ram Dhakeli’s flower bed falling immediately into a deep sonorous slumber like a coal miner.

Ram Dhakeli was back as the new-born Venus on her Theak Hai seashell. She was alone floating on a sea of blue seashells. Sleep came later, on ant legs, and carried away her silent reverie of escape and arrival.

Morning arrived in MD-saab’s cold and awkward embrace. It was as if he had been shielding her from something. His eyes were shut. And even Ram Dhakeli’s movement didn’t stir him.

It was only when she sat up she saw what had happened to MD-saab.

Ram Dhakeli let out a scream but it remained unheard by the workers and guests outside.

MD-saab’s body had been cold for hours. Even the blood on his back had returned to a thick protoplasmic state. Ram Dhakeli’s Superman had taken a bullet in his back.

And she was single again. Once again single by marriage.

The corkscrew inside Ram Dhakeli’s head was beginning to turn once again.

I was brought up as a crocodile, given absolute freedom to be myself...
As a child-crocodile my favourite hang-out was on top of a guava tree. This was where my scales and my long tail became invisible. And I became all-seeing. In those days my favourite food was guavas. And my favourite game: hitting people with rock hard baby guavas. Being a tree-climbing crocodile was fun. What's more, I could eat anybody.

I have often been called whitehead by friends...

Some days I feel like a grid through which the whole Universe passes like water through a fish net. On these days I feel like I have been there and there and everyfuckingwhere.
I feel like I've seen it all... like I've done it all...
I feel I have nowhere new to go, nothing new to see... or do.

The turn of this century has seen much hate and disgust poured on this flag. The tribal totem of America... the Original America. This work seeks to question the relevance of the United States of America as the lord and master of the World. Especially in the coming world order.

Weird, that something as remote as the image of a solar storm may occur to me... especially so soon after I do the Saturn rings... I know you may be thinking why is it weird, because there is this common planetary grid that's running across our solar system, the grid that holds us all.
But that's not how I see it. I am also seeing it as a subconscious plot, a schema... an astrological cipher that is adding up to something... something I don't quite know yet. Aquarius by the way is ruled by Saturn and is six signs away from Leo, ruled by the Sun. Saturn is also the sixth rock from the Sun. They are diametric opposites, raging with cosmic testosterone and mutual hostility but they're also very close. In Indian astrology Saturn happens to be the son of the Sun and his consort Shadow (Chhaya). Where Aquarius is Dionysus, the eternal rebel, the dark and mysterious one, the intoxicator, the breaker of boundaries, the orgiastic ecstasizer [and as well as my ascendant sign :)]. Leo is, Apollo, the keeper of light, form, order, boundaries, laws and music.
Saturn, along with Jupiter, is also the astronomical replica of the Sun, where everything and its cousin cluster around it in eternal orbits, like slaves driven by an absence of choice. And Saturn is a hard task-master.
Making these works has been exhausting so I am taking a short break... will be back soon!!!

Saturn's back and he's looking good!!

This one time a firefly came into the bedroom and cut the night into many pieces. It was like the throb of a huge ECG monitor. I licked her lips and teased her mouth... and then cocked my head to tell her, 'Don't worry, darling, the night's still alive... and kicking'.

"A sliver of blue smoke is rising like a DNA coil. Rising from the tip of a smouldering cigarette. The smoke DNA is rising warmly, some of it is being inhaled, like tubed anaesthesia, by some dumb birds idling on the window sill. Suddenly the idle birds are flying with the eagles. Flying like eagles. But not really flying.
I am sitting with Me and Myself. I am split into three and located inside three individual heads. Three of us are sitting around smoking weed. We are growing in a Nazi bunker. Yes, growing there… As grass... and the Nazis fucked themselves up smoking us, seeing things… beasts, dogs and other sundry creatures."--From Purple Mind

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As an art practitioner I work in a variety of mediums, what you see here are glimpses of my many creative projects. If you like or feel strongly something here please don't forget to comment

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