Sunday, March 16, 2025

Written on the abstract photography of Biarritz by Francoise Dhulesia.

 Down and out below the sky, when it rains it rains.

Pools and ponds, lakes and rivers break the bounds
to flow in a torrent.
Watching the passion play from behind the glass is never enough when the night calls and the rain falls. The magnanimous blue draws paths in the rain. Throw the windows open
and let the drops in;
let the downpour in with all the trees swaying in a mass.
A night in rain is an abstraction
conjured up in a moment of awakening all of a sudden
to a statement of a stunning clarity of love.

2023,06, 09.

Here is my answer to you a few hours ago, dear Sushama Karnik
You are just incredible! An amazing writer, a surprising mind that so easily enters into my world and deciphers it in the most brilliant way! A visionary mind is what you are: you fear no limit in the expression of beauty!
You have given this image a depth that only your skilled and spontaneous writing can gift it with.
I am really delighted you have felt the power of my love for this contrasted Biarritz, a city that has built up its nature and character listening and breathing with the force of the ocean and storms, never bending but welcoming whatever comes.
"I have for me the winds, the stars and the sea", the motto of Biarritz is symbolized by a plural sign, at the same time scallop shell, sun and star.
I really thank you from the bottom of my heart for this poetry that not only celebrates the ocean and Biarritz, but also the magic of your visionary writing skills.

Sunday, March 9, 2025

From 2023 Story reading with my girl.

 An afternoon

with my girl. Just me and her,
the story reading over,
I'm free to doze off now. And I see her,
standing straight,
looking at me,
cold dissatisfaction,
embittered,
betrayal
writ large on her face!
She is holding the book behind.

I had read out to her
the first story from an adult world
that left her grumpy, sad. I could see in her mind's eye
the sunflowers withered.
I offered to hug her
but she refused.
Anger mingled with being sad!
Dissatisfaction !

Sunday, February 16, 2025

The Hands of Mother

 The hands of mother entwined with mine,

 and passed on an energy of a lifetime 

speaking of aeons of faith and prayers, struggles and fulfillment,

We sat on the rock at the familiar sea, just watching the sky and the sea.

She said a lot in that silence and I assured her that I heard it all.

O mother , I'm still your child longing to hold your hand.

May every daughter on this holy earth listen to the mother's voice

and may the secret breeze carry the voice from the daughter to her children

in the cycles of time

eternally.

Sushama Karnik.

Thursday, January 16, 2025

 I made it up to the land's end,

but now begins the sea.
You have brought a rowing boat from the far end
but how do I trust you and the sea?
This cumbersome dress, this hat that is waiting to fly with the wind
and the hardest thing, how do I step into the boat?
I can neither swim nor float.
This. is no picnic my dear is no picnic my dear
I was better off in my study.
No photo description available.
Anders Zorn, Sommarnöje (Watercolor, 1886)
Anders Leonard Zorn was a Swedish impressionist painter, sculptor, and printmaker. Wikipedia
Born: February 18, 1860, Mora, Sweden
Died: August 22, 1920, Mora, Sweden
On display: National Gallery of Art, MORE
Periods: Artistic Realism, Impressionism, Modern Art, Modernism, Realism Painting, Academicism
Spouse: Emma Zorn (d. 1885–1920)
Parents: Grudd Anna Andersdotter, Johann Leonard Zorn
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Françoise Dhulesia

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

 Far from the boat I row

I see the tide ebbing.
Agitated, the sea is quiet.
I am already there
on the horizon. Dots of white sails
furled with wind
and the waves have stopped breaking on the rocks..
I will reach there, and by then
I will have the grains of sand
and the taste of salt
sticking on me
bruising, healing
all at once.
Sushama Karnik.
2- January-2024.