Spectator

Bald confession Well, not a boring long story. As you have seen or read somewhere. Its about me again. I am the protagonist. It happened, I felt the hairline  was receding. And god! Greying too. My pride and my crown was depleting. I didn't  complete my 30s and I was still, unmarried. And here, I was preoccupied with my thoughts and thoughts of others. I was worried, all I can say. In our lives there comes a moment when we have conversation diaoherea, when people loses subject to discuss, and comes the filler topic of personal front -physical appearances. And it's universal, as far my experience goes. The scapegoat is the already depressed (read: bald), who has been escaping since long when you people exchanged hi and hellos at some get together; to not be a centre of discussion, even remotely. But is unlucky. On a positive note some even help you, or at least show they are. And topic of hair fall is ubiquitous. It will pop in some how. It's  curious case of hair fal

The MOBILE artist Disclaimer : intentional boasting of my art work maybe palpable in the following columns . Dear Reader, They say art and artist are born and not made. So in my case you can follow the dictum - ' self praise is my recommendation ' because I have become a momentary artist, a new found hobby. Indeed artists are born and not made. Each one of us have some hidden art or talent and artist inside us.  From doodling into last page of my notebook or diary to recent know how of mobile art, it has been a very short journey in quick succession. i have never been a good artist. There has been several reasons for it and to blame for. The first, i would blame is the 14 inch black & white television for 17 years which tortured my psyche during my childhood. It got reflected in my art classes, during primary schooling I doodled more with black strokes (pencil colours, crayon or poster colour, more black) :) So, my art world was more black and white. my eyes beca