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The journal of my rambles, adventures, reflections and discoveries...
Hi All,
Join me in Facebook, where I share:
My arts
Nature photos
Life philosophies
health tips.
My link below.
See you there.


On an afternoon walk, the loud chirping of house finches on a scrub oak tree was so delightful. It’s bird therapy.

Just today I was telling my kids that happiness does not have to cost a penny. In a world where earning money is becoming harder, it is a good idea to find happiness without spending anything.
So here they are, making chalk hearts in our garden, surrounded by beautiful spring flowers.

My daughter picks up Japanese words as I learn them. Here she has made chlak art and written hanami, the flower-viewing tradition. When I asked her, “Hanami is watching flowers, and hanabi is fireworks. Which one would you choose?” she said, “Hanami, of course.”

One night I could not sleep because of my daughter’s cough, so I went out for a dawn walk. I have seen many sunsets, but not many dawn skies. That day I saw the soft morning colors rising slowly.

This is my favorite nook in the garden. Here I sit, soak in the sun, and look at the little Buddha surrounded by arugula, nasturtium, mustard, and daisies. My stress disappears. I know nobody else created this space for me but i did it myself. Sometimes we have to create our own happiness.

This is the western vista from my house, but today my brain played a little trick on me. For a moment it looked like a mountain covered with clouds. It was just clouds.

I hope you enjoy the photos and the thoughts.
Hi all,
If you read me you know, I am passionate about art.
Check my arts for sale in Gumroad. Gumroad
Minimal price. Just $1-$3.
The art of 'Buddhist monk and dog' got good response.
Thank you for support.

Back then, in the nineties,
in rural India,
monsoon was regular and strong.
We were an agrarian community,
so rains were very important,
to start paddy cultivation.
We would wait, watching the swallows
as harbingers of rain,
and then one day,
black carpets of dense clouds
would cover the sky.
The monsoon had arrived—
to linger for months,
to make the parched land
lush again,
to fill the rivers and ponds,
cattle would be plump up.
We sat leisurely on porches,
enjoying the clouds and rain,
watching birds carry twigs,
to build nests on the trees,
as we munched
crispy pakoras, puffed rice,
with ginger milk tea.
That was bliss,
now I am an immigrant,
in a faraway continent,
Things are not the same,
as we know,
life rhythm is fast,
weather erratic
but I still stand at the window,
sip my tea, and watch the rain
with great delight and passion.
Come what may, we must not lose
the connection with nature,
in its nurturing bosom,
lies our peace and happiness.