Gone are the days of the unreasonable man that George Bernard Shaw said was the cause of all progress.

The one journey that now fills me up with sadness is re-visiting family albums.

I have often felt that abstract paintings and sculptures are like nirgun paintings. Artists worship a formless God that only they are able to see when going through the throes of creation. And when others see it, it becomes a process of perception that has its own rules of “seeing” and forming an amorphous metaphor that takes “shape” at various levels of consciousness. The practice of creation too has a methodology that might differ in artists.

Till college, the National Museum remained one of my favourite places. I would just wander in when I had a few spare hours, and pore over the beautiful sculptures, mesmerised and marvel at their workmanship. However, now when one hears of this treasure trove being rudderless without a director and many of its departments headless and collections god knows where, it fills me with deep sadness.

Puducherry. The name conjures up some beautiful memories of the charming seaside town in Tamil Nadu.

Of all the arts, I find sculpture and classical dance the two most difficult media — for the simple reason that both are body dependent.

Just when one was beginning to think that with the exit of Ashok Vajpayee from the helm of affairs of the Lalit Kala Akademi, all would be well; it seems the saga of wrongdoings continues.

Last week, I was at a charming restaurant in the suburbs, which has been designed and landscaped to take one closer to the elements.

Last week, something very important happened that is very close to my heart.

There is something very endearingly straightforward about classical arts — be it performing or visual arts.