On the subject of Architecture

I don't think any subject can aspire to be as aspiring or as all comprehensive as architecture.
People think architects only learn to make plans. No. They are taught to have an eye for colour, rhythm, pattern, taught distinctive styles ranging from the medieval to modern, taught climatic conditions and what type of built environment suits each one, taught about materials, old and new, learn about construction and structural techniques ranging from stone, bricks, steel, concrete to present day  new age materials.

History, sociology, botany, a bit of geology all form a part of what they need to know.
Truly, botany? Right! They need to understand plants and know which types provides what kind of shade and goes with which type of environment!

Plus obviously they learn drawing plans, elevations, sections to represent all that they know. Wait. They don't just sit at a computer and start drawing plans. They spend a couple of years practising drafting on a drawing board. Then they learn to translate their thoughts onto the ubiquitous software the language of which again they need to learn simultaneously with their other subjects.

So if you are an architect out there... love thyself is all I can say.

Of Many Colours

Of Many Colours

I wore blue today.

Royal Blue

That is how I feel when I step out under the winter sky

Bluebells on the hedges, blue bougainvilleas with their fluttering dry paper leaves

Ice cold blue with blue bangles

You had better keep your distance from me

So they don’t offend you, my blue veins that stand out

Getting up in the morning, taking my bath at dawn

Washing those left over dishes

And drying those cold clothes

I wore blue today

To feel the glitter in my blue eyes, for I am tired of feeling grey

Is pink my colour?

It gives the colour to my cheeks

When my husband brings me a gift

But more often when my in laws point out my mistakes

I can hide under my pink lips, bangles and ribbons

The blushes turn to anger soon

Again that is pink and can be kept under wraps

Like my pink dupatta which hid my embarrassment

From the repulsive maulings

Of a revered teacher or a co-passenger or a kin

So I wear a brighter pink

To hide behind my anger, desire, pleasure and... sometimes loathing

  

The warm feel of the soft grass

The distant trees forming the skyline of a deserted road

The verdant reflection in the nearby pool

The creepers on the wall reaching out to the sun on the roof

Their tender tendrils seeking a toehold

Warm, new, ever growing

Soaking up the dust mites, carbon

Green is my colour

Born in the tussle between Mother Earth and Sun and its siblings

Green won in tentative steps

Over a billions of years

So how can I wreck it in a few planned moves of destruction over a hundred years?

Bright and Sunny yellow

Nothing keeps it down

Flitting from flowers to flowers on the wings of a butterfly

Or gracing the newly weds in the woven marigold

Cheery and Chirpy but always graceful

Yellow knows

Life is a myth

Nothing lasts and nothing is yours

Like the yellow sun bleaches all it falls on

Time washes away all memories

Except perhaps the fabricated ones, all man made

Yellow is my colour: which holds an eternity in every moment

---

This poem is inspired by the bright colourful sarees worn by Indian women and relates them to her various moods. I would appreciate your comments and suggestions.

An ode for Self and my 40s Friends (nee Teens!)

(With due apologies to the real poets out there!)

When hormones and BPs make a call

Does friendship go for a stroll? 

Kitty parties, kids and kitchen

Maids, puppies, homework and men

Tie it up with anniversaries and weddings

Bdays, golf parties, work parties and promotions

Parents, arthritis, doctors checkups

Boss, deadlines, budget and the alumni curse

Aunts uncles getting old
As we struggle to make time for them

Those childhood memories get slowly lost

GTs, selfies, whatsapp, games though manage to rule the frame

We still manage to survive the day

With a smile, attitude and reserve at play

Where Everyday is a new day and and Every pic has a new Wrinkle

Those are not worry lines but smile lines 

No anti wrinkle cream is erasing the experience

No doc making us live forever

When finally the mood swings stop and Life settles

Remember we will be too old to play

So let's enjoy the egos and squabbles

And let those thyroid, BP and hormones have their day

Let them just add one more crinkled line of strength

to the bond called friendship; here’s to the day

Let's live it up!