My Paternal Home, where I was raised rests on top of a hill. Long ago as a child I could see my home surrounded by Hills in every hue of green and blue possible as the seasons changed.
There was a church on the North-West side of the house on a higher hill and on the North was a stream that flew right till the boundaries of our terraced garden.
Fruits and flowers abounded and I still remember the aroma of the rich cakey red soil.
Our home was an Assam styl structure made of wood and stone and had a flower garden at the top with terraces of fruits, vegetables, and a bamboo grove right at the bottom.
The eastern side of the house opened far into the horizon with a breathtaking view of the undulating hills blurring into an impressionistic haze of mist and colour.
Me and my siblings had our own orange trees and there were two cattle sheds and seasonal fruits of every kind that one could find in a tropical landscape.
A sole mango tree almost kissing the roof of our home bore fruit beyond its capacity.
After moving to a polluted city zillions of years later, I can only reminisce and long for that elusive paradise called 'Home'.
I am a self taught artist who began painting at the age of 10 when I sketched a portrait of my paternal grandmother.
Since then, I have been dabbling and experimenting with various forms of art from Painting on canvas using acrylics, sketching, digital art, decoupage..
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