Propaganda

 

30x20 inches; Pen and ink over graphite pencil on tinted drawing paper (Click on image to enlarge)

I look perfectly charismatic
While my innards are swarming with worms
Festering from corruption and bile,
An immaculate Dorian Gray in the vilest norms!

I can conjure up godly avatars
While orchestrating the most demonic of deeds
Knowing, you shall find me innocent
Disregarding what your faculty of reason heeds!

I will stalk you like a predator
While promising you the world of your dream,
Bending the rules to trap the prey
Leaving you crumbs and stealing all the cream!

I can gradually poison your being
While you thank me for being the saintly messiah!
You will imagine you have free will
As I turn you into slavish mobs taming the pariah!

I will rape and plunder with my power
While you stay drugged with hatred and deceit,
No victim shall receive justice or closure
But in turn will be deemed guilty by moral conceit!

I am quite a scoundrel, I know
While you remain confident of my holy character!
Why else try to control public opinion
If not to lead, unchecked, my fattened lambs to slaughter?

Pancha Mahabhoota 2 - Apas (the waters)

12x16 inches; Pen drawing on acid free textured paper (Click on image to enlarge)

The Message In A Bottle

The thirst flows through us.

In our veins,

Yours, mine, ours...

The rivers,

Tributaries,

Waterfalls,

Lakes,

Seas and oceans

Alive with life.

The tides form a cycle

Like life itself.

High then ebbs,

Washes the shore

Breaks

And flows...

Carrying the burden

Of sunken ships

And decay.

‘Pure spring water’ says the label

On bottled paranoia

Served chilled

For quenching thirst.

Free of microbes

Causing diarrhoea,

Added  

With extra mineral...

Life guaranteed.

Water bodies choke with litter.

Discarded

Empty bottles

Of ‘pure spring water’,

Toxic waste

Marinated in acid rain,

Chemical cocktails

And oil spills

Alive with death.

Numerous plastic bottles,

Float out

To sea,

Carrying a singular message:

‘If water turns to poison,

Life will cease

Without hope for recycling,

A discarded empty bottle

Floating in the sea!’

- Rudra Kishore Mandal

Desire And Despair

20.5x28.5 inches; Pen drawing on handmade paper with watercolour wash (Click on image to enlarge)

Those cards

Boxes of chocolate

Smell of your soap

On my birthday

The touch

Under the blanket

A strand of your hair

On my pillow

The movie ticket

Our hands

In the dark

Mouths

On the roof

Sultry afternoons

Rain drenched

Like the crows

Sound of

Punctured bicycle tyre

Of pleasure

Maybe guilt

Surely Pain

Caught under

The mosquito

Net

Of desire

To learn French

Do French

Seduction

Wine on our

Skin

Thin veil

Of modesty lost

Liberation

In a bathtub

Dancing

Naked and sticky

‘Baby skin’

Whispered

Tickling my ears

Leaving behind

A trail

Sorrow

Of holding

Hands

In public garden

Eyes flirting

Mouths watering

A shared cup

Of ‘Irani chai’

A bite

Of jealousy

On my nipple

Dripping

Honey words

Poetry

Of laughter and

Longing for

Despair

Heart break

Distrust

‘Dry your tears!’

Bitch

The world

Never ends

To the music

Of dance beats

Sweat

Circling

Measuring

Teasing

Pulling each other

Groin to groin

‘kambakht Ishq’

Old monk

In my vein

Passion

In our loin

Kissing

Till the faithful

Are summoned

Morning prayers

Warm embrace

Enchanted sleep

Deception of

Separation

Distance untraveled

Unwanted

Complications of being

Uncomfortably numb

With failure

Dejection

‘What went wrong?’

Nothing went right

Expectations

Stifled and buried

Dreams

In between

Right and wrong

Flows a river

Of longing

Infested with

Ghosts

Drowned possibilities

Piranhas

Of guilt

And a leaky boat of

Salvation is slowly

Ferried by despair.

- Rudra Kishore Mandal

Fluff

 20.5x28.5 inches; Pen drawing on acid free textured paper with watercolour wash (Click on image to enlarge)
SOLD. In private collection

Every year after the rains are gone, and the autumn sunshine announced the arrival of Durga Puja, with the chill in the air indicating that winter is near... during that time my mom used to bring out all the pillows, cushions and mattresses up on the terrace, to sunbathe them. She insisted on doing this like a ritual every year, to get rid of the musty and unhealthy smell that the prolonged rainy season left behind on everything. She will carefully, almost lovingly, fluff up the pillows and the cushions till they looked like square or rectangular ‘Phulkas’, puffing up on a ‘tawa’ and turn them over at regular intervals. The pillows and cushions will soon become warm and cozy and that is the time when our pet cats, a family of five we had for over six years, will make good use of the soft fluffy playground! The young kittens will play hide and seek among the cushions and roll around, as if the cushions and pillows had been laid out for them. Slowly the warmth will make them drowsy and eventually they will fall asleep. I used to love watching them perform this little drama, and sometimes join in their game with a ball of wool or some other prop. All I have now are the memories of those afternoons, which manage to bring a smile of contentment to my lips, even now. It is like the taste of some delicious jam or pickle you had stolen and tasted once and the taste still lingers in your memory, bringing you pleasure mingled with nostalgia. I still remember the smell of those warm pillows, the feel of the soft fabric, the fluffy fur of the cats, their soft lazy ‘purrrs’ of satisfaction, and the smile on my mom’s face...  Happiness was so easy to find, once!! Yet, many may find it to be nothing but ‘fluff’!

Tiny Deceptions 3 - The Red Herring (Fallacy)

5.5x3.5 inches; Watercolor and Pen drawing on executive bond paper (Click on image to enlarge)

Ruthless mind brimming with unspoken words

Misleading glances hide cruel intent

Cloaks make the cuts deeper from pointy swords

Reality hurts when dreams are spent. 

- Rudra Kishore Mandal