Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
Getting to Powell River, British Columbia.
At the Pacific central train station
Painting on the ferry with Powell River artist, Robert Scott McMillan.
Getting to Powell River from Vancouver.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
To dearest Papa on his 80th birthday!
To dearest Papa on his 80th birthday:
I asked papa a while ago
What life was like to be born in 1934
In a little town by the sea
A town that's called Tangesseri.
Things were a lot different in those days,
Strange happenings and stranger ways
For one, there was no electricity
And you'd have to leave the house to pee.
A horse carriage was their family car
That could take them pretty far!
His father was a lawyer with a temper some say,
who ruled the household until he passed away,
But his mother was one who brought peace of mind,
She was industrious, inventive and very kind.
Single handedly she toiled to send papa to school,
Mending fishing nets, playing piano, cooking with every tool.
This eventually led papa to Punalur Paper Mills,
Where he started book keeping and sorting the bills.
That's around the time when he met Mama,
But that's another story, a whole other drama!
While at the mills things started to change,
For an honest man, things were out of his range.
So Papa, Mama, Sonia, Raymond and I
Left to Bangalore in the blink of an eye.
Primarily for us to have a better education
For staying back there, would be pure suffocation.
Their time at the Mills had good moments too,
They made great friends who were dear and true.
One such friendship, had planted the seed,
That brought us to Canada, to be right here indeed!
In Bangalore Papa learned about hens and chicken,
What on earth??? Who the Dickens!?!
He kept accounts for a poultry farm,
Deejay Hatcheries could do no harm.
When things grew weary with suspect dealings with numbers,
Not much difference between chickens and lumbers,
Papa moved on to practice on his own
A sentinel of virtue, a rock not a stone.
He toiled, he sweated, he cried and he fought,
He loved with a passion and he shared what he got.
He built our Home with foundations of peace,
'Shalom' was our home with happiness and ease.
Papa's got vision, that garners respect,
From young and the old, every race, creed and sect.
His silence is golden, his thumbs they are green,
Beauty just blossoms everywhere he is seen.
I have one thing to tell you, on your 80th birthday,
"I love you Papa" - I have nothing more to say.
Prash
17 September 2014
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Canadian Transcontinental
I had always wanted to travel to the west coast of Canada by train and I finally did it this summer. I took the train across Canada from Toronto to Vancouver, which was a magical joyride for the soul! These are some of the watercolours that I did while documenting this incredible journey.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
