Through the grill, I see the grill,
Marred palms clinging on to the grill,
How many more to go;
How many passed,
Through the grill, they see the grill,
In a city with a cramped up neighborhood;
I still see the grill through the grill.
Some of the sketches I made while waiting for my train and while wandering through the city. The quintessential chawls and the large windows with distinct but elemental metal grills and a million eyes glaring outside standing behind them intrigue me. The sketch below is of the Lower-Parel fish market which I pass every morning on my way to the studio. The smell of the fish reminds me of the fish curry my mother makes and also how we love this uncanny smell. I have inherited unconditional love for fish from my parents :)
Hope your day too is full of dreams in another cluttered milieu.
From the cramped up and cluttered city. Love