For me, Art is a world in itself. A world in which an artist chooses to live with his creations; himself not ruling over it, but merely standing in the middle of this circle of a created beautiful life within the life, enjoying this potent gift that he inherits from the universe. While others look at his objects of affection exclaiming and celebrating, enjoying it; he’s lived it, in a way no one else has. And this sets his experiences apart from that felt by the others. Because he’s had that rare moment of creation, of seeing the dream take shape, take wings, and take flight in its own little world. He has the assurance that the colourful butterfly that he’s created doesn’t need to fly into the world of others; it’s too beautiful to do that. It takes pride in flying in its own garden of world, and knows that those that care for it will find their way into its own world. And that will be the real celebration of beauty. Of dreams truly realized. We give huge importance to big things, not realizing that art is life at its bare best, it’s the ordinary life, and we’re quick to go – Oh! That is too profound, that’s intellectual talk, while all of it is about e seeking the self, and real art is a mirror that shows you your own self – a real naked reflection of you. The artist’s inspiration is not a big event at all. It could be as simple as the surprising droplets of the first rain, announcing the arrival of monsoon. Or the rays of sun playing hide n seek naughtily, on the canvas. Of the street kids with running nose engrossed in their candyfloss. Of the birds flying down, to the trees and to their nests, of the clouds pregnant, carrying water in its womb, wanting to embrace the mother earth. The inspiration can be the flight of colourful kites wandering high into the sky, not for any purpose or not with any goal but simply because they have a flight and they love to fly. These simple small little things have inspired me. They bring the forms and the colours alive on my canvas. Constantly inspiring me, pushing me, pulling me, shaking me. To lose one’s own self to be complete with someone. Becoming one. Becoming nature. Then art becomes life. My own reflections on life. And, I consider myself to be blessed, having a special privilege – being an artist.