The joy of painting

Ever since I have stopped watching stuff from streaming platforms, I have had some time to pursue things that actually make me happy. And by things that make me happy I mean learning watercolors.

Long ago, I did dabble a bit in water colors. But then ever since I took up oil/acrylic, watercolors were forgotten. Can you blame me? Oils are easy, and forgiving. When Bob Ross said, "there are no mistakes, only happy accidents", he was painting in oils. :) lol. I love the guy.

And now, I am learning again. Feels good. Really.
So a couple weeks ago I made this

Was really pleased with this.

There are some brushes I want to buy, but have been putting off going to the craft shop. I should.

Homegrown peaches

I have this song stuck in my head today - I am not a princess, this aint a fairy tale.. 

But its almost not true. Also fairy tales are mostly sad. Make us want to focus on the outcome rather than the journey. So also misleading. 

But I do love the song. Its catchy and old. Kind of like us lol.

Yesterday the boys found one of my old journals while rummaging around. It was from the third and fourth year of college (they understood nothing and found it rather boring of course). 

Quite frankly, the journal shocked me. First of all, it was meticulous. An entry for every day. I liked that part. But the contents, ohh.. made me cringe !! The "me back then" from my memories isnt so stupid. But it turns out that I was, we all were. I wish I could go back. I would spend some more time actually studying rather than roaming around. 

:)

So I told this to K yesterday. He has no regrets. But he still gets to study, keeps up with the tech. And I have lost touch. Sometimes, I forget I was trained to be an engineer. 

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I remember fragments of a conversation I had with a classmate (yes in MNIT). He was determined to prove that girls shouldnt come to engineering colleges because "they waste a seat". He argued that most of us were not going to be in the mainstream core jobs and so shouldnt bother taking admission in the college. He said a boy could have occupied the seat if I hadnt been there, and he could have had a career. 

I was furious of course. The guy was of course an a******. And wrong.

There werent many girls in our college (about 7%). And on an average, the girls have faired better. Not many are there in the core engineering fields, that much is true. Most of us moved on to other fields. But the engineering degree hasnt been wasted. Education is not about gaining information, no. That is rote learning. True education teaches "how to think". 

And that stays with you forever, and is useful in any field.

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Blue bus

The other day, I was reminiscing about old times, really old times when I was a little school girl of about 6 - 7. We used to take the school bus(thoughtfully provided by ONGC) to get to school. Now that I think about it, we were surprisingly independent even at that tender age. 

Our school was far, about 16 kms or so. Sometimes, in the evening, some of us sued to miss the bus and then had to get home by taking the municipal buses all by ourselves. I don't remember it being difficult. Cumbersome, yes.We saw it as an adventure. I distinctly remember the ber tree we crossed while getting to the bus stand. Some days we used to collect the leaves and small thorns to craft small plates out of the leaves. Just for fun. In those days, municipality bus conductors were kind to little school kids, and rarely ever charged us. 

Our own school bus conductor, was an old, kind and a little fat person. The school bus and the regulars had developed a separate ecosystem of sorts. We, the littlest kids, didnt count. There was an unwritten rule that we were supposed to occupy the first four rows only, the back rows were for the "bade bacche", who must have been 12-14 years of age at that time. Oh, but to us they seemed so big and old. We were careful not to step on their toes. Some older girls took us under their wing(so to say). Sounds dramatic, doesnt it. It was, trust me. They used to let us read their library books while on the bus. I remember some of the names, but none of the faces. 

I guess that is what happens.