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A Rhetoric on Art

© Author of the blog, Title – On the border of Art and Art history, 11.12.22 Dear Reader, Kindly remove the burden of correctness, rationale and logic at the start of this piece. The discussion here is a purely personal opinion and nothing more or nothing less. For the past year, the theories of literary criticism, evaluation in art history and the nature of aesthetics has recurred in my…

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Just once again… That night, the wind was howling making his existence known to every creature alive. The darkness had cloaked every tree, hill and house.

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Her story

It’s been a while since she hadn’t written a good stretch of words. The usual urge she got to pour word after word, weave a story, create a character out of her imagination didn’t rear its head for quite some time. She had never been much of a story-teller. She had been intrigued by the characters that she saw, people she would observe through the local train. And she would spin an enthralling…

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Ruins, Romantics and Maniacs..

The light flickered across the haggard face of the old man. The living room stood quiet in the swirls of darkness. The little light from the fireplace provided enough warmth to the wobbly hands. The old man fumbled as he got up from his rocking chair to brew himself a cup of coffee. The winds were gaining pace as the temperature continued to drop drastically. Drat! The man thought, if only he…

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The Court of Abstract

Chaos had a beautiful rhythm And Death sang a mellifluous tune Life mourned Happiness in a corner And Serenity screamed aloud.

Silence held a meeting of the four They talked about Truth, bitter and sour; They talked to World on a question stand; They conversed and talked, They enquired and they mocked, Death wanted Justice Serenity yearned for Peace They fought and they struggled For answers For a…

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The Window and She.

She craved for a change. Sometimes the monotony of her routine hit her so hard that her mind struck a dead end. But that day, things were about to change. It was a regular day of mundane activities, but then suddenly the clouds darkened. And amidst the dim lighted studio many arrays opened for her. The gigantic three tier window opened upto a small alcove of trees. Every other day, she used to…

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A story of Yester-eve The kingdom was indeed eager to welcome the reign of the next successor. The sky was aflame with elation knowing that it was a start of a new beginning.

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First Rains... (II)

First Rains… (II)

She began, “It was.. ” and abruptly stopped her fingers from writing the same old sentence over and over again. She sighed. How many times had she written those exact same opening words, she had lost count. She wanted to change her style. She wanted to change her style of narration. No, rather she needed to change it. She inhaled sharply and left her laptop open on her desk. The room around her…

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Epilogue... (CH. 26)

Epilogue… (CH. 26)

It was the day of Georgiana’s welcome ball and month since she had been miraculously discovered by the Normans in their own living room. Aunt Lilly had worked herself to bits to arrange every centerpiece, every piece of napkin and every last piece of flower perfectly. Over a month, Georgiana had dumbed herself down into the normal lifestyle she always craved. The twins made her life a little…

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Mystery… She craved for a balance. Between what, she didn't know. She wanted everything at once and yearned to let go nothing.

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Shadows and the night.. It was getting darker by the passing second. The alleys now sheltered the grotesque shadows of men, women alike, of stray dogs, of the things stacked outside the shops.

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One month later, The Vigilante made it to the Samone island, a voyage devoid of untoward meetings. It was in the dark of night as the ship docked in the harbour. All of the crew was eager to get a bed that won’t be swayed by every wave that hit the walls. The lady at Maple’s inn was elated to find customers knocking her doors in the middle of the night. However, Groogs rushed home quickly after…

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An End or a Start? I couldn't verbalise my emotions as I wrote the last sentence of my story. I was still engrossed in the dazed state of mind, where the characters, the scenarios and the ideas never left my mind.

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One outburst and two Farewells.. (Ch. 24)

The hackney made its way through the gigantic, gilded gates of the Burlington estate. It had been seven years since she had last seen her home. Although, the stone building, at present, just stood there ominously as it witnessed the once joyful daughter enter through the gates. It was all coming back to her. All her childhood, she had enjoyed the gardens of the estate. But, now in the avid…

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Li’l piece of knowledge (Part II) That day, it was difficult for her to pour life into the sentences she weaved. For her mind was off wandering to the far lands.

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The Final Altercation... (Ch. 23)

The Final Altercation… (Ch. 23)

The world came to a standstill for Georgiana Evans as she saw Jerry, her father’s faithful cook, fall with eyes that conveyed a sad, helpless feeling that sent chills through her heart. She was unable to do anything but watch him hit the varnished wooden flooring of the study. And suddenly, she was consumed by this innate desire to cut every limb off Lucien’s damned body. And in that very moment,…

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The negotiation… (Ch. 22) With the first rays of sun hitting the sublime atmosphere around the Berkeley Inn, Georgie was fussing around her room.