Turquoise and Brown

My family lounge is now complete. It's warm and cozy with a hint of vintage, yet I've managed to retain a contemporary feel.

To paint a room a dark chocolate brown is something not many people do or want. But I've been obsessed with the idea of owning a room of this colour. It's daring, I know....but nothing has ever dared come in the way of my sudden outbursts of creativity.

I have always thought that Brown looks gorgeous with all the shades and hues of blue (from lapis, cobalt, sky to navy) and green (emerald, bottle green, aqua, lime or olive)....I settled for a deep turquoise.

Amidst my vines and tendrils of brown, there are shy little exotic blossoms peeking out from behind them in happy harmony... playfully teasing the eye of the beholder.

It feels great to be done with this room....it's been pending for about 6 months now...With my baby boy playing about and dancing to the beat of 'If you're happy and you know...' and 'Insy wincy spider', I found inspiration through his beautiful smile and piercing, naughty eyes full of love.

The only thing left to do now is the lighting...some diffused light behind the wall mounted television and maybe some hidden lights behind the couch should complete the look and this room for a warm and cozy winter. Can't wait to fire the grill and BBQ some sea food baby!!!

Update: Finished off this room after adding the right kind of lighting and arranging my dried flora in the corner.

This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Lucky escape

OK - So I dropped my hubby off to work today and was on my way to ..um..work; and of course, as dreaded, I got caught in the worst traffic jam EVER. Maybe my friends in Dubai will have a good laugh- 'coz I was stuck in this jam for only 45 minutes....but for me it was quite nerve wracking...While in this jam, I played Scrabble on my iPhone, honked like a true Indian, spoke to my brother n sister in Canada, and later to my husband, texted the head of my department 3 times explaining how my car hadn't budged for the past 15 minutes, swore in French, English and Urdu at the cars responsible for the jam and decided what to cook for lunch.

Once we started to move, I got out of that jam only to get stuck in another one within 5 minutes. There was a round about ahead, and a police car with it's annoying blue and red lights on. The policeman sat in it, day dreaming, while we just waited for something to happen. I basically had to take a U- turn, but the cars around the round about were motionless. It looked like one of those scenes from a Sci-fi film where everyone abandons their cars on the roads and runs for shelter 'coz a giant hybrid is walking around having fun stomping anything that gets in its way.

I had to make a decision: Either I prepare myself to be late to work by a good half an hour, OR I pretend I'm an impatient Kuwaiti (which I can pull off, coz I'm a lighter skinned Indian with Iranian genes - add to that my hijab, - et Voilà!!), and do the obvious, try to drive over the curb to get on the other side of the road and avoid the round about all together.......... So I did it, I steered to the left and accelerated onto the curb, which according to my approximate and faulty calculations was 'a little' higher than I expected....The front wheels of my medium sized four wheeler climbed up on the curb. I continued accelerating thinking they would land on the other side allowing the rear wheels to get on the curb and then I'd be free to speed my way to work....BUT NO!!! Oh No sirreeee!!.... The belly of my car settled comfortably on the curb with my wheels rolling away in mid air. Now, at least the people in the cars around me had some entertainment!! As much as I like to keep a low profile, I usually land in situations where the spotlight is on me and this is usually when I wish for a hole to appear so I can disappear into it. All I could say aloud was " Amber, Amber, AAAAMMMBEEERRR!!!!!!!! Why Do You keep doing this to yourself!!!!!Merde!!Woman!!!! U have to STOP!!!!!" .. and other things on the same lines accompanied by profanities and hand movements that usually follow an extremely embarrassing situation.

I started imagining sitting in my car and being towed away.... or running after my car, one arm outstretched,  (Bollywood style), screaming 'NOOOO!!!' while it was being towed away. Praying hard and desperately trying to figure out a solution, I looked in my rear view mirror, and saw a white van with an Indian behind the wheel. His expression told me how 'not funny' my situation was... and all I could do was shrug and look sheepish. The next thing I see - two Indian men trying to manually lift my car from behind, asking me (in Arabic, coz they thought I was Kuwaiti) to step on the accelerator.... I was, at first, stunned but also so, so touched. I rolled down my window to let them know that I was Indian and spoke to them in Hindi...It was adorable how their smiles went from 50 watts to 200 watts!!! They pushed harder and Hallelujah!! or should I say AlHamdulillah!!! I was on the other side (of the road, of course).. My embarrassment turned to ecstasy!! I would not be late to work after all!! I had the goofy, moron expression on my face with my " I'm such an idiot" smile plastered on it for a good 10 minutes.

I wanted to repay my fellow Indians. All I had was my smile and 5 dinars... and I wanted to give it all to them. But before I could turn around and thank them, they were already in their car, smiling at me from ear to ear. I was really moved. It's not everyday that one comes across kindness and help offered so unconditionally. And I have noticed that it is mostly us Indians who willingly offer it. No offense to other nationalities, who were having a good laugh at my predicament...or maybe their reflexes to help a lady in distress are slow.

But seriously, anyone planning to drive like a Kuwaiti, make sure you own a car like one!!!.

P.S: This post is not meant to hurt the feelings of my Kuwaiti friends. I love you guys. I've lived in this country all my life - But y'all know deep down, you drive like Kuwait is a Formula 1 race track!! :P


This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Summer of 2010: Realisations and Nostalgia.

So, I'm back after a crazy, humid, summer 'break ' from India. It was awful. What global warming, pollution, 'paan' and a complete lack of hygiene and social responsibilities has done to the sublime beauty of India is unimaginable.It breaks my heart to think that this is my homeland... Yes, because I am an NRI, you might say that I've no right to criticize India.... but believe me you - If I'd be living there, I'd have definitely been doing something about it.... I'd even become one of the pain in the @$$ social workers cleaning up India for free shouting slogans and reprimanding public urinators...I don't understand how the super powers of the world can see India as a future power to reckon with... with the fetid smells and pestilence plaguing it still....Yes - out of this breeding ground of exotic parasites, come out our doctors and engineers - only to run out and join the West or the Middle east.....And what of the educated class of India? Where is your pride? I'm not saying that it should be clean and smelling fresh when the NRI's visit in June, July and August...lol...but please - do something about the hygiene!!! for the sake of our kids!!We want to protect our future - our children, not turn them into high resistance mutants.Why does it have to take a Munna bhai or an Amir Khan to resurrect our pride?

I went there with my husband and 10 month old son and stayed at my in - laws. A couple of days later, my baby became ill. The sudden change of weather, food, environment and people took it's toll. I think I met more doctors than relatives during my stay there. I was too overwhelmed by the negativity to even notice the few good things that still exist there.

A long drive at midnight with my son peacefully asleep in my lap took me back down memory lane to my Grand's ancestral house...I was back to being 5 years old and being the center of attention for all my aunts, and older people...A memory of me plucking bright pink blossoms of the willow tree and it's extremely sweet smell hit me as I remembered stringing them together making little garlands for my aunts... I remembered the little puppy I found trapped inside the fence around an old gulmohar tree, and how I'd rescued it, taken it home and given it a bath and some leftover bones to eat....I remembered how clean everything used to be... and how taking a deep breath wouldn't burn my respiratory tract...I remember crawling around the grass in the park after a heavy monsoon rain, looking for 'birbabottis' (red velvet beetles) with my little brother who is the Gerald Durrell of our family.  I miss waking up at 5:30 in the morning and dashing up the stairs to the terrace to watch the Brahman lady opposite our home come out with wet hair and make a rangoli with white rice powder on the front doorstep in the speed of lightening... and then I'd go back to bed with a smile on my face after having viewed a very basic and beautiful form of Art. Eating Mangoes to my fill, until the sugar got to my head and made me woozy is something I can now feel only in memories. And what I miss the most is the rains... oh dear Lord.. the smell of wet earth seductively caressing my senses is a high I miss being on. The soft, fragrant breeze drifting in after a heavy shower enveloping all senses, making me one with it, is now just a memory that I conjure up on unbearably hot, dry and stifling summer breaks in India..... I miss being carefree and blissfully oblivious to anything bad around... because there never was anything bad...

I miss you India....I miss your beauty.... your unpolluted spirit.

I come back into your arms every year eagerly anticipating the feeling of being home... like the embrace of a mother...but now it has started to feel alien.

But no matter what. A mother is a mother...never mind the distance or state (pun intended).


This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The Sema



For years I kept calling you,
And suddenly you came to me at dawn,
And whirled me to the Sema,
You left me with not a moment to spare,
Not even for my morning prayer.
~Rumi

  (watercolours and acrylic)

I painted this Dervish in a trance, in celebration of this verse by Rumi. Someone very special had read it to me and it has been part of me for a very long time.

The colours are a gentle intermingling of warm, cold and earth tones. It is difficult to explain 'Nirvana' or 'Moksha' or 'Najaat' using the visible spectrum of seven colours and the shades in between. 

This Dervish is a representation of myself. His feet are still planted on the ground while his head or mind is reaching for the heavens. I wanted to depict the non existence of time and space when in ecstasy.

The 'Simurgh' which represents the 'self' or the 'soul' in Sufism is depicted here above the head of the Dervish as reuniting with the Source, the celestial Almighty, which is why I painted it in the same colours of the skies.

Passion can never be satisfactorily put on paper or canvas. This is a glimpse of my fleeting imagination... a feeling I felt when I heard the verse above.

This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Lune.. qui là-haut s'allume.

Something compelled me to part the icy green silk curtain and look up at the sky.... And there it was again.... The full moon....This time though, grayish clouds shaped themselves in front of the moon in such a way that it looked like the moon had eyes... and was looking down at me... Around it were heavenly bodies.. in motion..orbiting around each other and around the moon.. in perfect harmony...It was like a mini galaxy, with the moon in it's center..it was a beautiful....a rare, almost divine sight for mortal eyes.

I looked around and asked my mom for her binoculars....and I found a pair right besides my prayer rug. I picked them up and rushed into the balcony, with my mother behind me, asking me not to look , because there might be shooting stars. Unlike many people, we believe that they are a bad omen. I ignored her, coz I feel that I'm above all this and looked through the binoculars... nothing great.. just a slight magnification....when I wanted more detail.....

The full moon is recurrent in my dreams. In different moods, different ambiances. The overall feeling in my dream is that of awe, peace, happiness.. as though I am able to see that which I am in search of...

I don't know what I am in search of.. whether it is the self, a hidden truth... It's like having tasted something superlatively gourmet and am craving for that taste again.... Or having smelt a divine fragrance and am desperately in search of the source.

I don't know what the allegory of my dreams is.....but I do know that my soul hasn't been at rest in a long, long time.There's is always turmoil somewhere inside me.

Looking up interpretations online, asking my mother for a meaning, discussing this with a friend... have failed to sate me... I'm still thirsty.

P.S: The title of this post 'Lune..qui la-haut..' is a song from the hit theater musical 'Notre Dame de Paris'...this one being one of my favorites. I had the good fortune of attending this musical while in Paris. It was absolutely entrancing!!

Do listen to it here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vI8yzy0pDv8&feature=related

This is a really mediocre rendition of my dream...I shouldn't have attempted it...Let my dreams be where I left them.... where allegories are realities.

This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Abstract feelings... Abstract series

Allo! Amber (pronounced Ombairrr)... Ca va toi? Je voulait juste te dire qu'on a choisi ton dessin pour la carte et les invitation pour l'expo de fin de l'annee.


That was Francoise Conte. She'd called me from Paris to tell me that my design had been chosen to go on the invitations and the poster for the annual exhibition at the end of the year. I was proud.

That was in 1999.


Over the years, like everyone, my experiences, thoughts and emotions varied, matured, have been influenced by others, struggling to burst out on the canvas, or in the form of words....but language, I feel is such a barrier....


I'd been asked to give this work an Islamic but modern feel.
Recently I'd been playing around with my 'chosen design' and came up with this series. I had decided to do each one when in different moods. With my moods - I should have come up with at least a hundred different colour palettes...but lack of time has allowed me only the following. It goes without saying that 'The Philosophy of Warhol' was a bit of an inspiration. I will keep adding to this series....wondering what my final one will look like.

Impression (pun intended)

Deserted

Cold and warm

Passion - caged

Black light

Serenity

(mixed media)

This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

The Awakening

Sitting with my mother in her room, talking about gnosis, trying to drink it slowly, not gulp it down like I normally have a tendency to...She is telling me the story of a king who had the most beautiful garden. In it he had streams of sweet water, fountains, ponds with water lilies, exotic flora and fauna...peacocks adorned his garden, displaying their beauty and happiness, for it was a happy place. Then one day, the king bound one of his peacocks in a tight leather jacket and placed on top of it a basket. This basket had a hole on the top to allow in some sustenance.......The peacock soon forgot about it's friends and the perfect world outside the basket and started to believe that this was it's world.. and that the jacket was its body... It could breathe, it got food and water.

Sometimes though, sounds and scents floated into it's little world...and it would wonder...

My mother then asked me about the significance of this abruptly finished tale... and I was confused. For a 12 year old, I didn't know where this was going. I was asked to sleep on it. I woke up the next morning after having dreamt of sad peacocks and leather jackets.

I don't know if my mother was disappointed that I hadn't been able to decode the symbolism of this story, but I was absolutely awestruck, excited, overwhelmed after she did... and I fell in love with this new world that had been revealed to me.

Passion stirred from his sleep,

He stretched his limbs gracefully and arched his back,

He looked at me.....smiled and embraced me.

He now accompanies all my senses.

He possesses me.

For those of you who may not have been able to understand the symbolism:

The King is God, the garden is Eden, The peacock is you, the jacket is your body, the basket is this world.


This work by Ambereena Razvi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.