I want to live like one of those characters in TV soaps who don't have to work for their living. So that I can indulge in small pleasures of life.
I want to own a small cottage somewhere on a beach. It will be a small cottage, with a kitchen garden where I'll grow tomatoes, lemons, potatoes, spinach, chilies - well anything I want to basically. There'll be a nice big garden with fresh green grass and an assortment of flowers - chrysanthemums, lilies, roses, shiuli. There will be coconut trees, a mango tree perhaps...
My cottage will have huge windows that will not try to hide anything from the outside world...I'll casually drape old colourful silk saris, soft dhakai saris on my windows moving away from the restriction and structure of tailored curtains.
Cushions in bright colours and various sizes will be strewn around on white marble floor. Comfortable wicker sofas you could sink-in for those who shy away from the floor. I will perhaps throw in a charpai somewhere in the house to indulge my eccentricity! There will be my didgeridoo and emu-caller standing tall in a corner giving company to each other, keeping an eye on the goings-on around them.
Spaces and rooms will flow into each other like rivers. Fluidity, interspersed with brief obstructions and structurality will mimic the imperfections and beauty of life itself.
The walls will be adorned by my paintings. Huge canvases on which colours will make love, play with each other, unabashedly...
A studio of my own housing an old rickety easel, canvases lying here and there, a colour palette clothed in dry crusty paint, textured by scraggy bristles of my brushes. A potter's-wheel lying in one corner of the room; a mound of wet mud waiting to be brought to life with the caress of my fingers. A shelf full of books to satiate my craving for words. A piano and a guitar and a stack of papers with musical notes will complete my creative sanctuary.
The bedroom will be simple, beautiful and sensual...soft muslins, cottons, scented sheets, scented candles, an assortment of wind-chimes to put me to sleep with their light tinkling music on cool breezy nights, a wooden four-poster bed in dark maghony, draped in fine white muslin...large windows...cool floor...soft feathered pillows...bamboo lampshades and some more candles...
Somewhere in the house will be this very old gramophone with its rotating handle, which my grandfather owned. An easy-chair my grandfather used to sit on till his last days.
My kitchen will be earthy, somewhat old fashioned. No state-of-the-art electric chimney for me, I want to relish the aromas wafting through air when I cook...it will remind me of my mother and her cooking… A collection of fine wine and home-grown herbs in small pots will make it so much more charming and warm.
My family and friends and their presence will give it warmth and make my cottage a home…my dream home. The simple pleasures of life...
I want to own a small cottage somewhere on a beach. It will be a small cottage, with a kitchen garden where I'll grow tomatoes, lemons, potatoes, spinach, chilies - well anything I want to basically. There'll be a nice big garden with fresh green grass and an assortment of flowers - chrysanthemums, lilies, roses, shiuli. There will be coconut trees, a mango tree perhaps...
My cottage will have huge windows that will not try to hide anything from the outside world...I'll casually drape old colourful silk saris, soft dhakai saris on my windows moving away from the restriction and structure of tailored curtains.
Cushions in bright colours and various sizes will be strewn around on white marble floor. Comfortable wicker sofas you could sink-in for those who shy away from the floor. I will perhaps throw in a charpai somewhere in the house to indulge my eccentricity! There will be my didgeridoo and emu-caller standing tall in a corner giving company to each other, keeping an eye on the goings-on around them.
Spaces and rooms will flow into each other like rivers. Fluidity, interspersed with brief obstructions and structurality will mimic the imperfections and beauty of life itself.
The walls will be adorned by my paintings. Huge canvases on which colours will make love, play with each other, unabashedly...
A studio of my own housing an old rickety easel, canvases lying here and there, a colour palette clothed in dry crusty paint, textured by scraggy bristles of my brushes. A potter's-wheel lying in one corner of the room; a mound of wet mud waiting to be brought to life with the caress of my fingers. A shelf full of books to satiate my craving for words. A piano and a guitar and a stack of papers with musical notes will complete my creative sanctuary.
The bedroom will be simple, beautiful and sensual...soft muslins, cottons, scented sheets, scented candles, an assortment of wind-chimes to put me to sleep with their light tinkling music on cool breezy nights, a wooden four-poster bed in dark maghony, draped in fine white muslin...large windows...cool floor...soft feathered pillows...bamboo lampshades and some more candles...
Somewhere in the house will be this very old gramophone with its rotating handle, which my grandfather owned. An easy-chair my grandfather used to sit on till his last days.
My kitchen will be earthy, somewhat old fashioned. No state-of-the-art electric chimney for me, I want to relish the aromas wafting through air when I cook...it will remind me of my mother and her cooking… A collection of fine wine and home-grown herbs in small pots will make it so much more charming and warm.
My family and friends and their presence will give it warmth and make my cottage a home…my dream home. The simple pleasures of life...
