Have you ever made a boat of a paper - from you copy or a newspaper - in your childhood during the rainy

season? Have you heard the sound of falling raindrops on different objects, in silence ? Have you ever kept yourself silent - and observed ? Has the fragrance of the earthy odor during the early days of the rainy season enamored you. Do you remember your missed heart beats during the roaring thunder storms, your fears, your apprehensions, your anxiousness ? Have you ever observed the rain soaked surroundings in the rainy seaons ? Who is observing you ? Have you ever smiled back at them innocently. Have you observed how your boat moves in the water during the rain. How it wobbles with the raindrops falling on it. Have you ever shielded your boat with an umbrella unknowingly exposing yourself but protecting your precious boat from wetting & sinking ? Do you remember your loved ones laughing & cajoling you make another one. water ? Do you remember the agitation that made you create ripples in the stagnant water with your foot, have you observed ,it just stands there moving up and down riding the crests & troughs. Have you ever tried moving it with your hand you ruminate why did it stand so still ?. Do you still remember what you conversed with your stagnant boat ? Have you ever observed what happens to your boat in the running water ? Did you even bother to care for the concern shown ? Did you observe what happened to your boat in the stagnant

Have you followed your boat, where is it going ? Without thinking of the muddy path you are now following, messing your feet. ...... sometimes I thought it was the floating boat sailing rapidly. Sometimes I thought it was the fast running little stream of water carving its own path in the mud & slush. Sometimes I thought I am slow. Oh ! you realize how for you have come just following the meandering paper boat. Have you ever thought, is it the boat or the unhindered path of that flowing water finding its own path to its destiny. Do you remember how many times you followed the same path to the same grand old pond in various rainy seasons ? What did you think when your boat got stuck by some obstacle ? One day I lost my treasured boat in the pond. It went out of my reach and sunk. I still remember my prolonged silence ...... . I still remember sitting under the tree dejected; and hearing the lightening thunder. I still perceive those fearful thoughts that lightening will strike this tree. But the very next day I tied a thread to my new boat & let it float in that pond beyond my reach when I felt I have to go home I retrieved it. I reopened the paper boat, dried it and next day made a boat again ; curiously it was afloat only for a little while. Why was it sinking so fast. Have your ever made boats from dried up papers ? Have you ever noticed what happens ? Those where the days when I tied threads to my thoughts & left

my boat to the infinities of the ocean. Those were the fascinating days when we tied thoughts to our boats & let them losse in the ocean of infinity. That is what I am, waiting for storms to come and decide the fate of my boat. Those were the charming days I started felling the meaning of silence, sounds, words, started feeling the meaning different dimensions, started realizing that it is only the knowledge that will keep my boat afloat in storms. These thoughts have captivated me since............. . This is the explanation of boat I painted in distorted form in my painting titteled "My life" it has other 16 objects in symbolic form. It is difficult to write or explain everything in my paintings and honourable people say write about yourself, write those things which affects & affected your subconcious and your very pure psyche. and people who sees your painting and stands in front of your paintings will some how understand your paintings which contains different dimensions. I am explaning in short what happened and people after knowiwng I have restarted paintings are doing which is now affecting my subconcious and paintings. So many things happened when I broke my silence after 23 years. I never wanted to or did not want to speak my past to anyone and no one talked about it in front of me for last 23 years, but my paintings broke the silence. Silence has really great powers and tolerance makes you acceptable and shines your feelings and knowledge and gives you grant opportunity to observe them and it gives others the opportunity to be what they are in thir originality. My father used to say to me genius remember this " If someone do not

understand tyour silence they will not understand your words. So many zombies from my past arose from their graves and started swarming around my paintings and me & as usual never understood me and my paintings but had courage to discuss their past in apologetic manner, in their distorted form, miles away from the truth, under fear that now something is going to happen. My paintings have only broken my silence not my originility. I want to tell them if you speak truth you have to talk less and it looks less noisy. I have written everything about me in short in the begening of my website. Who had courage and slight aura of guilt talked with me and who had not discussed it with my Daisy, my daisy heard everything for years previously and tolerated it in the name of her love for me, bnut now she started crumpling even under my protection from everything this started hurting me because they were distorting truth with their denials, saying I forget and I don't remember what and when a particular evnt happened. When so many people know everything related with me, is there any need for denials. Everyone wanted to know why I stopped paintings & it is on my website a concealed simple truth for last 2 years. Things happened in early 2010. That people who know me in my second life after 1985 who cared and loved me start aking have you forgiven them, because my paintings gave those jombies, who were responsible for all this mess in my life, the opportunity to talk to me, which I never given them before they all need answers and I don't want to hurt them again so I am explaining. They talked but do not know the meaning of words they used. I

ask them what you call memory, do you know the difference between delusion and illusions. Do you know what is obsession, what is temperament, recall, fantasy, false instinct guilt and sorry . Do you know the difference between I forget and I do not remember, is their any different between recall and remembrance. the feeling, nor you don't. The present knowledge of past in real time and place is your memory, delusion is a belief that are firmly held despite objective evidence contrary and illusion is an appearance that is not real. Obsession is a persistent idea or desire that is recognized as being more or less irrational or immoral by the person to whom it continually occurs. Emotional traits of personality displayed by an individual is call temperament and recall is the form of memory in which a previous experience is remembered and what is satisfaction of motives in the imagination; sure it is fantasy. It is our innate, unlearned unchangable behavioral response to the normal environmental stimulus is call instinct. Behavioral response is changed in false instinct. Stirred up or disturbed state of mind, when our feelings become intense and excited is called Emotions, do you know what is a feeling ? Feeling, feel, do you feel, Emotions, are just opposite to instincts or it is the core of instinct. What we call our capacity to sense, senses we feel by our sense organs, physical or nonphysical, what we call our emotional susceptibilities, atmosphere, sensitivity, notion our vague awareness, Capacity to feel or sense is our felings. Don't you think by forgetting we mean the failure to recall and Do you feel emotions, of course if you know the meaning of it, have you ever felt

recognize an ideas, it is weakening of bonds that are formed in learning. What do you mean learning is ? Bring back into one's though, keep in memory, to not forget is the meaning of remember. Don't you think there is difference in forgetting and don't remember ? What is common in these interlocked, interconnecting

descriptive words, it is the feel. It is the feeling. Have your ever felt, the feeling of silence of Maya (The matter), depth of knowledge, have you ever feel the vibrations of real and apparent world. Vibration of your soul & body, and others, have you ever sensed vibrations of maya, have you ever sensed time and place, have you ever felt the vibrations of believes, sensed appearances, desire, emotions stimulus, sensed the vibrations of our mind, real and apparent, have you even sensed feeling, have you ever felt any thing for others except your self how you ever observed other. I am sorry. Sorry for what ? Sorry for gathering courage to stand in front of me to talk after 25 years ? Do you mean the meaning of sorry ? Do you know what is sorry ? What has given you the feling of pity, what pained you, for what you are regratful, what made you apologetic, ashamed, conscience stricken, guilt ridden, remorseful, repentant and shame faced. What. It is feeling of feeling pity, pained, Regret, shame, repentant is called sorry, Don't you know that. You don't know the meaning of feel and you are feeling, feeling what. You apologized and said sorry 40-50 times in an hour. For what, why do you think I derivd these meaning or I know the meaning

or I feel the meanings. Don't you think it is your wishful dellusive thinking that you all would hav denied every thing from me. Do you think I have even tried to give anything to you all without your demand ? Do you think It was possible for anyone to deny anything from me of that era or today. Who started this? I never approached anyone in my life for any attachment because I knew what I had and have and because of that you all approached me and you all wanted and demanded so many things from me and in good faith, I gave everything I had to you and accepted you, can you deny this? Can you deny why I was popular, my intelligence, my vast vedic and spiritual knowledge, my different unusual ways of expressions, my mental agility, my paintings and sketches, my hands, my eyes, my physical presence which used to change the surrounding environment ? Can you deny that somany wanted the same from me what I have given to you on your demands ? can you deny my existance ? I had given my precious holy ornamented beautiful soul to you all with good faith on your demand and look what you have done to it, you have robbed all ornaments, smeared my soul with filth and broke it in pieces and you think your sorry will heal and erase those healing margins of my soul, will it give me back the missing pieces of my soul, my greatest loss ? You said I am sorry I don't remember, you or feeling sorry, saying sorry to me for what you don't remember. Don't you think it is the feeling of dejection, feeling sorry for oneself, for yourself because it is you who don't remember ? You should feel dejected instead of apologizing me. You don't remember when you said or stamped me a

drug addict publically but you feel sorry, will it change my world again, your 10 seconds of Lunatic talk and laugh........................ yavishtha ....... taking drugs........ he is used to....... . Those 10 seconds in my life span distroyed, ruined my life. Can you tell me why I still feel those starring piercing eyes followiwng me why I still feel and sense the smell of hate and neglect from people ? Why I still feel and I hear all those filthy comments ? Why I still feel the negative vibrations from hearts and mind of those people around one why. why I still hear the silence of foot steps coming towards me. why I still feel the warmth of fear of people coming towards me. Why I still hear the percussion of my heartbeat sinking, with the whole world sinking in front of my eyes, a humming, cracking sound of friction of my soul trying to hold me when I first heard Yavishtha you are an addict. Why I still fel that sticky dryness in my mouth, rubbing sound of taste buds of my dried tongue with my palate,why I still feel thorns in my mouth.why I feel dryness in my eyes, sense of friction like someone thrown sand in your eyes, why I still experience cold fluid running in my veins, turning my skin cold and numb, when my teachers and colleagues, tried to advise me. why I still hear those words, and sentences which I wanted to speek but kept silence. Why I still feel the silence when I entered the class in Government College. why I still hear my foot stapes and still hear the sound of fan, I still feel the air breezing I still feel all those roving eyes following me, my heart was thumping in anticipation and mind blocked, feeling chills in my limbs. I was looking towards physics professor but was not listening him, I was lost suddenly I waked up by

some noise and he said yavishtha are taking drugs, you are such a intelligent student and ................ I was shocked, started shivering my hands started trembling, and fingers going cold and numb. I still feel my body sweating, I still feel my tongue stuck at floor or month. I still feel my stoned and heavy eyelids, I still feel how I stared at him, I still feel how I become hypoxic, how I was unable to breath out, I was stoned, there was silence, (asthma) , nobody was speaking anything but every one was looking towards me, I still know how I was trying to hold and kept silence. I did that and after few minutes self injected my medication and when I felt my body, relaxed I stood up and left the clss in silence. why I still feel piercing of spears on my back, throbbing in my head, tight humming ear drums, unable to walk why I still remember the face of that girl who took my hand and made me seated at that staircase, same place I used to sit and deliver my spiritual lecturer. I still feel how I controlled my tears but they came out when she said oh GOD they don't know what they have done to Yavishtha. why I still see those half laughing, smilling, faces starring at me behind some object, throwing verbal stones at me. I still see myself trying place to hide myself in honeycomb of our college. I still see myself hiding from people from this world because everyone in college know me I tried hard at my level best to counter every thing but I was dejected in front of that irrational, revengeful minds of people. I cannot forget the defeat in my father eyes. He wanted to talk with those who did this but they refused. I still remember his deep thinking face when he was thinking; he could not save his child from this would, from you. I can't forget

his eyes his every expressions when he observed his own son, his little genius was cannibalized by you, in front of his own eyes. I see my blood, pieces of my fleshes, my throbbing heart. Pieces of my brain, my appearance, my eyes. My feelings, my every thing. My soul in your cheerful eyes. What if my instincts took over me in that situation ? I have descried a single movement, I have lived every single movement of my life with these feelings millions of times, was there any scope for my emotions, my knowledge or myself. I have written every thing previously what has happend. When everyone left me in that situation. Have you ever sensed the feeling of awakening, awakening in your bed when everyone, is sleeping, Just because of your dam feelings, a sense of awakening. Have you ever sensed the feeling of touch of defeated hand of your father on your hairs in that state in nights. He was a learned man as you know him, he was defeated before myself. I was alive when I was in pieces and awakened and they called it insomnia. I lived very moment what happened in day during my awakened state in nights. I tried to calm down my mind with various methods for just to sleep but those bad, delutional dreams awakened me with screams and violent cries. I still remember my mother closing my eyes with her hand, patting me, asking me what happened, don't fear I am here. Why I still hear my mother crying, cursing those who did this to me ? Why I still feel the presence of my father at door watching me and talking to doctors and giving me sedatives ? Why I still feel my struggle to avoid sleep to prevent bad dreams under sedation ? Why I still feel my catatonic hyper active movementas under sedation. Why I still hear my violent cries ? Why I

still feel the piercing of injections in my arm? Why I still feel sinking into darkness, falling in dark well slowly after injections. They said he was slept for 3 hours but I know I was awakened in that darkness, struggling to move my body, hearing silence only, interepted by my mothers cry. Why I still remember everything, Why I still hear those conservations when I was sleeping under seduction. I took weeks but you all were not there. What was wrong if my instincts took over my emotions and I ended up up opening my eyes at Dargah surrounded by Beggars, Sniffing hunger, seeping calmness of desperation, hearing nothing, because no one knew me there, seeing myself helping those beggars in every sense, providing them what they needed, a simple presence of your self. Have you ever felt a feeling of satisfaction when a lunatic, hyper psychotic pregnant beggar, when she accepted food from you hand saying you are GOD, she did not abused, not thrown stones at me but grabbed my feet saying you are GOD, Looking in my eyes. Have you ever seen a beaten up child, a frailed hungary child? have you ever hugged a frail, hungry beaten up child to console? Have you ever offered yourself and said beat me, not this child ? Have you ever beaten yourself for others? How you ever seated at road sides, stoney dirty foothpaths? Have you ever slept there. She delivered a deformed child in my hands when nobody was around her and I was 16 years old at that stage, have you ever smelled a child birth, have you ever felt wittiness of leaking fluids and blood have you ever felt the warmth of life, a deformed child. Have you ever claned a soacked child after birth ? Have you ever tied umblical cord which you have severed / cut with pieces of

stones ? Have you ever fed a deformed hare lip child when her mother does not know how to feed in that state ? That poor child was unable to such and when I compressed here breast the milk came out of his deformed nostrils, she kept her child for hours to her breasts to fed why ? Why I still hear her cryes of motherhood ? Why I still see her starring, wet, fearful crying eyes why I still feel everything? Whyi still feel every momemt? Why I still see those beggers begging me to help her. He died the next day but she was not accepting he died. have you ever convinced a mother that his child is dead, that lunatic gave her 2 day old dead child to her believes, to me, looking in my eyes, saying you are GOD ,have you ever heard about feelin of surrender not defeat. I heard it, and what was in my hands a smelling, open eyed stiffened dead child. & I buried that child but I could not bury his face because of his opened eyes, I did not want to put sand in his eyes, why those opened eyes still follows me, why I still smell that odor why. Why I still see myself carefully putting pieces of broken pot on his opened eyes? Why I still see my tears drooping on his face. Why I still feel he was not dead and I burried a live child, he was looking at me. Why I still see my hands trying to awaken that child? Why I feel that coldness again? Why no one bothered about my concerns that she is going to die few day later why, have your ever sensed death of a person whom you are holding, holding her sniffing dried up head in your lap. You cried for the first time there who heard you ? You shouted who heard you ? You started abusing and thrown stones to others who

bothered You? Do you know why she was throwing stones and abusing others ? Why I was abusing, shouting and throwing stones to others passerbies like her. have You ever felt defeat, have you seen transition from life to death. Have you ever heard death coming, that silence, that vibes of warmth turning into coldness, into darkness, have you. Heard the sound of last breath, last breath, not even your tears were with you, not even your every senses, the truth, have your even seen death, its arrival the silence when it leaves you. She died in my lap. Why I tried to revive her instead soacked my hands and her chest with her breast milk. Do you know why I hate the smell of milk ? Why I hate white color ? So many things happened in 2 weeks. So many things happened I cannot write here but so many things .......... insomnia, bad dreams, bad comments, lonlines, dejection, neglect ..... in that situation I advised you all if you don't want anything from me, give this honor to me, ask me "Yavishtha what do you want." I will say nothing but you all don't remember the day of my honour killing but you feel sorry for that it is your delusion that I left every thing a pure delusion, you were advised to ask. Believe me if you had looked in my starring, expressive eyes instead of smiling. showing your happiness like winners at the time of my honour killing when I said nothing, Things would have different today. I was not changed when I did my honor killing I was a big tree. I only shed those fruit laden branches which were in reach of mean people like you. I left my spiritual knowledge, all knowledge except

necessary, me passion and love my paintings my body languages, my every thing and covered myself with mask, a shield, a invisible curtain and left Ajmer to start new life. Can your sorry bring it all back ? They say I am feeling guilty, intense guilt after seeing your paintings. I want to ask you. do you understand my paintings Do you know what guilt means. You all have enjoyed my turmoils, sufferings and public humiliation, public character assasination and shown happiness seeing submissive Yavishtha not painting, insomniac, irritable, not giving spiritual talks / lectures, deliberately not scoring honors in studies in medical college, not accepting people, people calling him addit, showing unusual behavioural responces for last 25 years without any guilt or remorse and repent, even refusing my offer or chance I have given you for your kind explanations for all these. you all have taken advantages of my silence, patience and forgivenes and enjoyed and built mortal castles on my sufferings and now ansociating my paintings with your guilt, quilt, guilt for what I have restarted paintings, Again trying to find my mistake, believe me I have done only one mistake in my life. I ask you do you feel guilty for harrassing a person like me publically embarrassing me, cornering me, alienating me publically doing my character assasination publically and what happened subsequently in Govt. College in 1985 which I have already written. Do you feel guilty for my honor killing when I left so many things including my love my paintings just for my mere survival. Do you feel guilty for my loneliness, disgust, antipathy, aversion, repulsion

revulsion, fears which ultimately shown me path to endulge in smoke, alcohol and drugs subsequently when my parents shifted me to jaipur in mid 1985. Who bothered that I was taking drugs why no one believed me when I said I am taking drugs now laugh at me, through verbal stones at me, not even my father believed what I was doing.no one belived i was not taking drugs either. I raised hell under influence of drugs but why no one believed. I even painted my face like joker under influence and stood in balconey and shouted at wandering people. "laugh at me I am addict" but no one laughed. I repeated this at sanganari park but no one laughed at me but when I was crying loudly saying why I have nothing to make you laugh, why you don't believe me, They laughed on my cry, they laughed, they laughed and thrown money on me when I started telling my story that I am Yavishtha and some one stamped me addict.............................................................. ..................................... .............................. They laughed on my story ! Step further under influence I beated my self with belt, bleeding my back at M.G. Road. Shopkeepers and people there paid me handsomly saying do this for me when I said I am beating, bleeding, paining my self for other's sins, for your sins. So that GOD will not punish them, do you believe me so many paid me for doing this for their sins ! can you guess what i did with that money. This same person people respected and had a emage walked nude on knees to calm down his cravings, for need of repeat in front of pushers when he was short of money. He never begged in front of GOD but he begged in front of pushers can you believe it ?

This same person people loved and cared one pissed, vomitted in his clothes, shifted and beaten by dogs, slept along the dirty roadsides, parks. People kicked, slapped, beaten by sequerity persons, put behind the bars again beaten me there thrown lime water on my already bleeding back making me shout to make sure I was out of influence and alive. They beaten me again when I asked for drugs instead of food and wate rcan you believe this. They abused me physically and mentally untill my tolerence succumbed and I said Dayanand Sharma is my father and he is ................................ when I cam to my senses only then only one person my father realized what and why I was doing and for what Do you believe that. Can you emagine at what level I was mentally, physcially and sexually abused in that situation. Do you feel guilty for this ? Do you know why I paint every one in my paintings nude ? Your premetive mind can't emagine how these things hammerd my pure vergin mind and how it is manifesting in my way of expression in my painting why don't they think that guilt is a self estimated, self judgemental pre occupied feeling of having committed an offence or the fact of having committed an offence, culpability resulting into by our own mistake are you feeling guilty now, are you serious or again making fun of me. Don't they think their guilt is a matter of jealousy and selfishness because some where in their life they underestimated a person who is not around them anymore, stamped hum drug addict, forced him for honor killing destroyed his paintings and sketches, showed him path to endulge in alcohol and drugs subsequently but he came out strongly rocked in every field even with so many fears and self restrictions and loved by so many, living in different

dimension. They say you are very very good person you speak truth whatever, is it the reason for their guilt because I am what I am, every one knows and they have to say this because I am what I am. you want full escape by saying I am in guilt, where will you hide yourself, I am every where, I exists in my absense. Why don't they think it is guilt due to what I call them the immorals, conscienceless, rabid, saddist, degenerate, depraved, dessipated, evil, impure, indecent, mentally proiscuous, rotton, sinful, sooty, villainous, Theatrically waton, wicked people. OH dear, look how decently I abuse them even when I am the master of hell of abuse. why don't you think it is a guilt that you all have been forgiven by me for all you have done ? Why do you think I have forgiven you because I am Yavishtha, OH dear where is my kitten .......... I have pained myself, beaten myself, punished myself for all of your sins so many times, I have only forgiven you because of my believe that forgiveness becomes a punishment because it ends even the last relation of Hate. Is this enough for you people to stop feeling your ornamented, glittering flashing, showering, sparkling honourable guilt or you people wants to listen more. I lived a hell for nine months, tell me will you stop feeling guilty or I should write more. I would have accepted if you would have collectively given me poison, instead of doing all these things to me to make me suffer mentally, Do you know the meaning of faith and belief. It is very defficult to live with these kind of memories which haunts me and the memories of a pure vergin mind and a person called Yavistha Kaushik whom I killed at my honor killing. I am tired of

carrying the burden of my own careases and memories on my own back. It is very painful and tierding, I just want to sleep.God make me sleep. I know GOD is feeling guilty for my tremendous losses, for scarring my very pure spiritual mind and sou,l but do you feel guilty for all these felthy grim things I had to write in my website instead of my paintings. I know it is very difficult to explain my unusual paintings and I am not escapist but I feel embrassed when people ask me publically, in interviews at exhibitions, at workshops, every where why I stoped paintings, what happened in 1985, it hurts and mutilate me. Whe someone ask about all these things and when I don't answer them it hurts them, this is the reason to write about all these so that I can say just go through my website but I ask you is it the reason for your so called ornamented guilt. They say they don't remember when they refused to recognize me in front of my mother any friend jethani in mid 86. My mother says Yavishtha this is the reason from where they have gathered the strengths and courage to talk to you. you all people need reasons to talk to me, instead of feelings ? Emotional abusive outburst of my mother if I can summarize to just she says. everyone was there your parents, sisters and brother, ask them instead of Yavistha. I don't think every body is chronic pathological liar,like you in this word. I never wanted to talk about this event because every thing which happened after was very dark in my life. But I want to write few words. I didn't know the darker side of life at that time so I kept silent. I still remember abusive, out burt of my mother at their home. I remember how my mother and friends tried to calm down my agilated

father, I remember his eyes full of regret, his voice smeared with guilt, when he said, for these kind of mean, immature filthy people on their advice, I removed your paintings ,they stamped you addict they forced you for honor killing and now this, what make me to have faith on these kind of mean people,They refused to recognize him . I could not save, My saint from these carnivores. After words he look me to his collegues, place where he stored the large wooden box of my scatches and paintings but he was shocked to see the condition of it because it was lying in open roof for nearly a year when we opened the box ................. My mind was blocked, heart stopped beating to see the destruction ,every thing was socked, smelling, back and white .............................. I still see that destruction, destruction every where, I still smell the smockey fungal smell. That fungul inhalation that put my lungs in status asthameticus and was cyanosed & after tedious struggle I was survived survived for myself, for my belief, but I father kept silence, silence till his demise. Due to this guilt and regred, he could not talk to me for 15 years tell his demes. I tried my level best but could not remove his guilt and regrets. I want to ask everyone, who lost his identity on that fateful day me or them who refused to recognise. I asked this to my father also but instead of answering me he brought me colors, brushes, canvas and kept silence. Can any one tell me why I could not start paintings again. I know my spiritual powers could have saved my family but I lost it at the time of my honor killing but I don't know why I could not retrieve not it. My father, mother my sister lost faith on that day and I lost them on that day. later this event was the talk of the town, every body was talking in the about it. What they have done. this was the day

when people started respecting my feelings again they started loving me to the level of obsession,in medical College. This was the day every one started caring for me. A person who was alone till this day was suddenly surrounded by people loving him. I still wonder why people unknown to me knew so many things about me, had faith in me to an extent that they used to say Yavishtha say anything. I don't know what they fall in love with me when they tried to udnerstand me. and pressing me to restart paintings by any means. Why this event changed people mind and perception but I see yavishtha there surrounded by caring, loving people in his own circles with lots of concealed fears. protecting breach of his circles by people, insomniac, doing unusual things, not accepting people, refusing their love, still observing the people to understand them. Never looking at his past when it used to come to him so many time in medical college every day. I became extremist, enjoyed pain but why I don't feel it today, why I become like this, who says it is destiny ? Why I became irritated when some one in medical college said to me that boss stop drugs and alcohol and start painting for me, I will model for you, make my nude because I love you. Why these things kept me irritated, agitated for days and in that situation Dhanuka wanted to talk to me but I refused she said boss talk to me otherwise I will _____ myself I am in problem. I shouted at her if you have that courage to ____ your self you can solve your problem and if you can't solve your problem then ____ yourself, without looking at her face. I regret this incidence because she comitted sucide days later in her hostel / room. It is my first regret first time I went in depression indulged in drugs and

alcohol again. I still see her talking to me. Why I still feel tightening of noose around my neck when she comes ? Why I have no answers when she says when you have not looked in my eyes boss ? Why I hear her voice boss look in my eyes and read my mind in my dreams. I know if I looked at her face things would have different today. I still curse myself why I did that, what should I do when I feel her presense around me, can your sorry bring her back can your sorry bring peace to her soul, and erase those memories in concern people minds. When I started painting or every one close to me were jubilant, in trance, things spread, so many people visited me , looked at the painting some cried, some surprised, some kept silence some cursed, some stoned, some understood same asked some of them hugged me, I hugged some of them. My Daisy was the most happiest person to see me painting agains but on the other hand she was hurted the most to see what I am painting and to hear what people are saying. She become irritated, anxous, sleepien but never shown her concern verbally because she knew I was painting my subconcious and bad experiences. Which follows me and I am getting rid of it. I was expressing my hidden subconcious, I was paintings things which kept me awake for so long, I am symbolizing the things which follows me when I am alone. I am painting forms and things with distortion which I used to paint in my thoughts and dreams I am painting them nude because they ....... That is why my single painting contains so many related destorted sympolic forms. It is feeling of rejuvenation, new life because I started painting

my feelings, my subconscious again, my awakened subconscious but why I was not happy, why everybody concerned cursed those who made me to stop paintings, why I have started painting, why I have started painting and gave their tongue to talk about my honor killing 23 years later, why my mother cried, why she said you kept your father waiting for so long. Why I still hear my fathers, a month before his demise hear his thin voice of surrender when he said you will start paintings one day, I am sorry, I could not protect you, I should have shoot them before they cannibalized you, you start painting, yavishtha so many loved you but it was matter of God's acceptance you could not accepted their love but every one, loved you, they all wanted you to restart painting. Don't you think they still love you, I love you my son,give me freedom. he talked with me for more than a hours, it was I think after 15 years, why my father never talked with me for 15 years. Why I said to my father Daddy just go, leave you unfinished work for me places leave this world in peace. I give you freedom. Do you know why I said this to my father, have you ever freed a bird from cage, why I think one day it will come back to me. Who sufftered from my honor killing ? why I still remember my father's face, his tears we I came out of Pushkar sarover nude, The longest distance I walked for my existance ? Why I still saw the feeling and anger of his defeat and surrender on his face. Who am I to give freedom., Why I feel everything now again and even my painting are not making me happy again. I did honor keeling of Yavishtha but I killed my family, but who else was affected. I killed their emotions, feelings, their everything. Do you think my paintings can bring those 23 years

to them. You are demanding sorry for that, can your sorry will erase those memories, I have hurted, from those minds, in Medical College, can you erase my existence in their eyes ? what I paint. I paint my experience of that era, which follows me, I paint myself in pieces, transforming, metamorphosed, fossiled figures, I paint pain, sadness in my terms of distortions. I use space in very complicated way, I use colors at extremes. I use objects in a much concealed symbolic way attached to a very big event. I paint my subconscious, don't use shadows but shade, I paint eyes starring at me. I paint laughing faces. I paint light, time span condenses in my paintings you people call it story, but it is real life to a fossilized form. I paint figures in different dimension so that your eyes your mind cannot find the distortions. There is interconnection of every non related object in my paintings. My paintings touches surrealism, metaphyzes, sembolism, realism, fantasy. I can write book on it, stop it. I have seen people crying in front of my painting in exhibitions crying, they said I am feeling myself in this painting it has agitated my mind, my feeling . I never wanted to show my paintings to those who have never seen my paintings before and who were responsible for this mess but it was unfortunate, it happened. They were happy and said I like your paintings they are very good OH Dear where is my kitten. it made me sure they will never understand my paintings, but if you try to understand me you will. My recent paintings never wanted to see those who were responsible for this mess & never seen my paintings, but it was unfortunate it happened. They were happy and said. I like your

paintings and they are excellent, OH DEAR WHERE is MY KITTENS ? Have you ever seen my paintings before, do you know what I am painting today. I am painting my subconcious and things ground my honor killing and you an happy to see that. Do you think my paintings are making me happy. I want to know why you were happy and smiling on that fateful day of my honor killing when I left painting and so many things just for my survival and why you are happy again to see my paintings when nobody is happy around me who understand the paintings, because they know what I am paintings. It is very difficult to write my abusive, voilent thought here but I want to say it is totally baseles, superficial paranoidal thing, have you grown up, what drastic change the time has incorporarated in you that you say that I am happy to see your paintings, had you wept I would have considered that you have really grown up and recally understood my painting my creations. My earlier paintings you hasitated or refused to see because of ignorance born out of your paranoidal immaturity and advised my father to remove them without seeing them & 25 years later you are mentally still incapable and insensitive to stand before my work of art my painting to appreciate and judge them. My creations involve surrealism, metaphysics, symbolism, metaphor, time distortion and fantasy and honourable artists say my canvasses are "read like book" and "heard like an epic." Do you know the meaning or understand these words. As a human being who has my kind of hyper active, sensetive a working mind for me I a all ears for the unusual extra ordinary receives and comments, but my heart feels pity on those who simply come up to me and say that I am happy to see your

paintings, how hollow, insensitive, and out of context paranoidal comment by a person. It was deplorable then and years laters it still deplorable. I am highly observant and very sensitive person in my calmness and when some one like you form my first life before 1985. Tries to overstate/talk to me. I first just admire that courage you gathered to stand in front of me. Your lusterless face, dried lips and you constantly try to wet them, hyperemic warm ears, throbbing pulsating tachycardic carotids in your neck, dropping shoulders trembling hands try to hold each other, staggering foot trying to have good foothold. Your body language, your dried up mouth, constantly roving nystagmus in your eyes, your wet eyes trying to hold something try to conceal, try to curtail something finally unable to look at me because they know I read mind through your eyes is not is the same condition of mine when I heard I am an addict. You know when something is rolling in front of you a point in time on that wheel half his way goes away from you and you shut your eyes it is gone but dear remember and observe its half way it comes towards you, so dear neve rclose your eyes life is rolling, it comes again a again to you. I don't hear them I listen them, is there any point in hearing them, they converse about past. I listen and converse with them because I lost very precious soul in my life because I refused to listen and talk. But when my calmness shields their fear, shields their shame, shields then inhibitions, shields my presence I always put a question, have you ever loved me, a question asked by a person who has fear of love, who hates love what they mean, believe me they don't answer it but feel the same when they started the conversation I ask

them repeatedly the same question or say only question from my side have you ever loved me, when ever they feel comfortable in front of me. I ask everyone, to you, why they say sorry repeatedly when they don't remember anything, and when their repeated sorries during the whole conversation agitated me, why I again ask have you ever loved me in different tone and expression they starts crying, I don't understand why they cry but they cry and say yes Yavishtha I love you, I do, but they change this answer fearing my calm smiling starring eye and say I loved you till I was with you with sobbing, crying, Have you ever made someone to cry. I usually make pause there, observe them in every sense, and give them freedom to cry. I don't know why I love those puffy, watery eyes, wet eyelashes, some time wide sometime narrow, tearing crying eyes. Why they look beautiful to me. I think because with their cry I take their sorrows, guilt, feeling of disgust, shame, remorse, repents.Their delusions, their illusions, their recall and remembrance, their feelings, their emotions their sense, their pity, regrets, and even their conscience. When their tear starts drying up and after that pause when they cried to continue our conversation I ask in continuity when were you there with me ............. Were you ever with me. Our conversation slopes here i don't know why they don't answer this simple question, and in last just to calm their highly staired up agitated mind, to make them feel good, I say start coming in my thoughts, start coming in my dreams, please make me sleep, made in sleep to dream, I just want to sleep, I never demanded

anything from anybody, but somehow it is my demands make me sleep. The only mistake I made in my life which I committed to remove guilt of my father is that I have for given you all for what you have done to me because he advised and reminded me about my lecture on forgiveness and I hated you all to an extent that I even did not wanted to hate you all. I cant accept your sorries and guilts because even my forgiveness to you all for everything could not removed my father's guilt instead of GOD he asked freedom from me, even when he knew I never looked at them even, never talked to them, never given any chance to them, never asked for any explanations, I burried you all in graves in my subconcious. Why my father asked for freedom from me ? When I caged him, was it my fault that he felt defeated and embarassed in society ? For every thing happened with me. It took him 15 years to explain this in his last talk, 1 month before his demise that because of his unfortunate misjudgement, do to blind faith on unfaithful people (He took name). In good faith, on their repeated advice he removed my paintings and sketches (my only extra carricular activity) which they thought was responsible for my failure in PMT 1984., whcih he never knew will be destroyed. He further said that even after, so much of points and sufferings for an year or so you have forgiven them ? You are capable to do anything, but why you have not disobeyed me. Can any one tell me or I ask GOD what was his guilt, he removed my paintings on other's advice or I have forgiven them and never disobeyed my father. Just put yourself at my place and think if you can, at what level

GOD tested my patience and silence and pure purity for so long and after hearing my fathers guilt. If I was at your place I would have stand at ....... nude and asked people to pebble me till death, I would have accepted that prolonged slow painful death. You all have just survived and made beautiful mortal castles and alive to show your lying tongue to me and my daisy just because of him and my obedience to him. I never desobeyed my GOD MY FATHER. I think this is my first and last mistake in my life. It is my mistake. Is it my mistake ?