Ghungrus I wore Before I could walk Bols I learnt Before I could talk I came from a legacy Of the Gharana of Lucknow Angarkhas and Churidars For me my mom sew Acchan Mahararaj, Lacchu Maharaj My family and my teachers I learnt from them Making art my future! I took the art Of kathak worldwide Making my country known Made my heart fill with pride! I danced as an artist With all my passion Classical was my style It never went out of fashion! I gave my life To the promise of my art The new artists With my blessings, they start! I danced for decades eight And finally the curtains closed Now I will start anew In the Almighty's court!
Every home has a bread winner, who makes it financially possible to survive... but every home also has a bread maker, who uses those finances to turn the house into home. This is the portrait of my mom...and of every home maker out there! #portrait#miraquill#writersnetwork#wod#mom
My palette was dried and empty after burning my day for more than twenty to brush a minor in her thirteen with a stained hand she was running to tell her mother that she was bleeding nescient about the menses she was worried for her death for this blood was more than she ever witnessed her attire was painted white and her hair curled and tied so that the stain could be seen from the distant eyes her cheeks blushed with the heat the sun stroke was right there on ninety degree From a far distance, she looked more like a fairy Just like women looked with the brush stroke of Zeuxis and Vinci.
*Sexual Assault Trigger Warning read at ur own risk*
I'm nothing more than a mere painting Tarnished by your touch You took all these beautiful colors I once harbored Splattered them across my canvas Ruining the once beauty and brightness of my soul Now when I look at this art I call my body I see nothing more than the scarring smears you left behind Forever taunting me Always reminding me that my purity was never truly mine
Don't force your children, daughters , sons or siblings to marry someone whom they don't want to . It kills a person from inside. Very few become lucky to get a caring husband or wife but not every time this happens . It cause Marital abuse and complications. Peace .
From a bruised #painter who writes poems on faces to hide the painful hearts from a broken brush .
Thank you so much for the wishes <3 Hope you all are doing well .
Selecting the colours of life , Filling the reasons in the sketch , Finding peace in seized auroras , Constructing underestimated mountains, Rectifying brillant versions of charm #Painter seeks dark clouds in day Encloses rainbows in night , He fills demure for Kaleidoscopic events , With blue , red , black and white .