Desert Dusk (artwork)

Digital Art. Made first in MS Paint and then re-implemented in Inkscape.

My ancestors came from Rajasthan. Maybe they came from Sub-Saharan Africa. I have never seen the hot desert sand sinking into darkness, but they had. So I guess it is in my genes and that is how this image came about to be!

Desert Dusk by Vani Murarka
Desert Dusk by Vani Murarka

Made first in MS Paint and then re-implemented in Inkscape for resolution independence and a tad bit more sophistication.

trees, me and everyone

not trees, raised arms
of the earth are these
seeking blessings every day
for you and me
~ translation from original in Hindi by Marudhar Mridul

trees, me and everyone

trees7
trees4
trees9
trees8
not trees, raised arms
of the earth are these
seeking blessings every day
for you and me

not trees, open eyes
of the earth are these
clearing the path for
you and me

not trees, but the efforts
of the earth are these
scattered gems of happiness
for you and me

not trees, pictures painted
by the earth are these
friends gathered round
for you and me

not trees, gentle fans
of the earth are these
shades spread to soothe
our soul, you me

not trees, but the penance
of the earth are these
partners in our search
both you and me

not trees, but the seeds
of our being are these
believing in life
for you and me

~ by Marudhar Mridul
(original in Hindi: “ped, main aur sab”)
~ translated by Vani Murarka

coconut tree in the dark

i live under the umbrella
of a coconut tree
in the dark night
above i see …

i live under the umbrella
of a coconut tree
in the dark night
above i see
understated
refined
beauty

a shot i tried
to take for you
but the camera
did not see
what my eyes
and my heart
did see –
oh that unknown
beauty

so my love
come you too see
this spectacle
in udupi

but you must
in the dark
stand still
and also quiet be
late in the night
when everything
indeed does quiet be

then you touch
that which is
dark, rich and
velvety

the night and its
coconut tree

~ vani murarka

The Vocal Tribe Of Trees

When I paint or draw I mostly just let my hand move any which way it wishes to go. It is a discovery for me to see what is emerging. That is what happened with this painting too.

Once this painting was done, it seemed to me as if the tree, as a representative of the World-Wide Tribe of Trees is calling out and saying, “Hear me too! Hear me too!”

Trees are very very vocal. Only, their language is the language of silence.

Sitting quietly beside trees, one can’t miss their banter. Listening to them intently and softly with your eyes, is so so … There. There is no word for it. 🙂

I love listening to trees. It nourishes my soul.

Listening to the language of trees takes me to a different world. A world that is also very real and exists everywhere; outside me and inside me. A world which in its silence, holds profound comfort and wisdom.

Listen, listen, O World. Listen to The Trees!

~ vani murarka

to be me

i wish to be a butterfly.

i wish to ride the bare back horse
on vast and open greens –
wind blowing in my hair.

i wish the crackling fire beside,
below night sky –
a distant drum in the air.

i wish to be a butterfly.

i wish to ride the bare back horse
on vast and open greens –
wind blowing in my hair.

i wish the crackling fire beside,
below night sky –
a distant drum in the air.

the shimmering water of the stream
the silent singing night
the shadows of the trees alive
now that the trees sleep tight

i wish to touch.
yes the true touch.
hesitant, but
not very much.

the mud, the earth,
the bark, the skin,
the ripples, and the glow.
Her surface varied such!

the touch that tells
of inside spells –
a song hidden
under the skin.

i wish to smell
Her inside smell –
where i do find
that i do dwell.

to tribal be
to animal be
in earth rejoice –
to simply be.

i wish …

~ vani murarka

song of evening solitude

under the flame of the forest
silent and empty i wait.

unfathomed hues
and deepest blues
do touch the sky
and glide on by.

under the flame of the forest
silent and empty i wait.

unfathomed hues
and deepest blues
do touch the sky
and glide on by.

and i just listen
to them glisten.

my heart they strum
no beat no drum
no song no hum
just simply mum.

i dont touch them
they touch not me.
i am in glee
with my friend tree.

~ vani murarka

My Friend Tree