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The Blossom on the Bough by Anne Dowden
Last year at the ISA (located in Amstelveen) I bought this second-hand book. The book was last issued from the library in 1995 and they had decided to part with it. I paid very little for it. Firstly, I love botanical drawings. The precision with which they are made is stunning. My pictures veer more towards…
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Winter Sun and Yellow Things
Those who read this blog regularly know my fondness for Amstel Park. I have befriended each hidden corner, nook and cranny, secluded benches and ponds. I have read under its trees, played hide and seek between its bushes, ran through the maze, broken ice on its neglected fountains, eaten ice cream, bandaged scraped knees, criticized…
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Paris in the rain
Saturday, January 10, 2015, I was to be in Paris for the day to meet poet and translator Marilyn Hacker. I had many questions about her experience with the ghazal and ghazal poets; she was generous enough to offer her day to me. On Monday 5th I booked my tickets to travel by the Thalys…
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Going away – a visit to NIAS
Our team at work went for an offsite to NIAS in Wassenaar. I wrote a small feature on the outing. I am sharing a snippet (the one which Purab made me read out again): Autumn is an extraordinary season. The trees laden with orange, brown and red, shed their leaves. Ripe with the experiences of the…
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Flowers and the bees
The joys of Amstel Park, where Bambi and I often spend hours. He hates the bees and loves the flowers, how ironical, how can one exist without the other. In the park they have a toy train that goes inside what we like to call “the deep dark woods” (a nod to Julia Donaldson). We…
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Renewing my faith
Currently having a dodgy relationship with my old faithful Canon PowerShot G11 after it failed to deliver on two important occasions. Today we took a walk towards Ouderkerk so that I could renew my faith. I am still skeptical, cynical. Let’s see how things go.
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Falling through the cracks
Blackened embers still burning now and then A white moon smudged In-between I built my castle on reclaimed land Dug the wet sand till its grains hurt between skin and nail Swept away the sea Pushed back the tidal waves of full moon the basalt gray Call me sturdy
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A walk through Amstel Park
“Is it summer yet?” “I think so.” “How would you know?” “Well it is that time of the year.” “What if you did not have a calendar?” “It is warm, the sky is clear, the ducks are having ducklings, the flowers are out, and the trees have leaves.” “That’s just a good day.” “When you…
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Rolling and Smoking Will – A Ghazal
Rolling and Smoking Will – A Ghazal Leftovers marked impending will Let go if you can bending will Old China, teak furniture, books His never-ending quill I closed the suitcase lid No hope left in swallowing pills A garden of roses and jasmine He wove magic with his tending till What is gone can’t…
