Kagna (Photo

Deepavali- Rangoli (Photo)

Human Abstraction (Henna, Photo)

Clown (mask made of clay/underglazed) 

A Message to My Viewers

Hi viewers,
well so far you probably know my name and have some idea of what my interest areas are. I am an artist in my own little world. Many may not consider me as an artist, but I believe that to be an artist I don't need a degree in Fine Arts. I am not majoring in Fine Arts because I don't choose to earn fame. Art is a way for me to run away from my worries and stressful student life. Art is a way for me to earn peace and discover myself. Art is the only way for me to keep a balance in life. My art may be random, but it is precious to me. It is the soil in which I dwell and prosper everyday. Art is my language unspoken yet heard. Art is within me like my ISHWAR (God) is.
Thank you for visiting my page and understanding my art.
Keep visiting because art doesn't finish here.
Swati

Self-Portrait (photography/photo shop) 

Consider this Sexy (Photo)

Practice ( I painted this in my IB Art class, and never finished it...sometimes things don't need to be complete in order for it to be a work of art) 

My Album

I came back from college and went straight in my parent's bedroom. On Ma's dressing table I saw my photo album. I picked it up with enthusiasm and jumped on my parent's bed and started looking through it. I flipped through the album pages noticing how organized it is. Starting from baby pictures and ending with my senior year pictures. As I turned the pages I saw my pictures coming to life. The turn of every page was refreshing my old memories. The chocolate cake that was put in my mouth on my birthday, the new dress I wore on diwali, and the facial expressions were captured while getting caught putting makeup on. All of it was there, there on just a piece of paper. I finally came to the last page and took a deep breath. I closed the album with in seconds realizing how fast the album came to an end. It felt like a chapter of my life just ended. I sat there with a closed album in my lap. But soon I turned it over and started again to refresh my memories and to start another chapter.

Expressions (work in progress) 

More Indian Dolls 

Indian Dolls (Made in India) 

Indian Art (Made in India) 

Indian Art (Handmade by underprivileged Indian Children)

City (Print on silk)

Ceramics Pot (Red Clay) 

Growing Plant with an Aging One

With a small bag on my back and a red colored water bottle around my neck, I waited anxiously for Dada Ji near the white gate.
"Dada Ji, Dada Ji hurry up the school will start anytime now." With a laugh he came out the door and took my bag from me and placed it on his shoulder. Everyday he took me to my bus stop and brought me back in the afternoon.
During our daily walks, to the bus stop, I started noticing changes in him. Rather than walking besides me he started walking behind me. When we got to the bus stop I asked him why he was walking slowly. He replied, "Because you are a growing plant and I'm an aging one.” I wasn't sure what he meant, I was only six at the time.
Another school year began and it all started again. This time his hair was white and his skin a bit loose. Again I asked him the same question and he gave me the same answer. I still wasn't able to understand, I was only seven at the time. Now I'm 18 and I understand what he meant. He was getting old and was getting young.
Still at 80 years of age he comes out the door ready to walk me to school. However, instead of me waiting for him at the gate, he waits for me. He still waits knowing that I'm never going to come back where I first started to grow younger with his aging body.

A Childhood Affair

I kept my eyes glued on the clock. After the minute hand hit ten I got up and ran out my room. I tip-toed my way to the main door and went down the stairs. As I got closer to Dadi Ma's room her snore got louder. I entered the room and jumped on her bed. Unaware of my presence Dadi Ma kept snoring.
With a whispere I said in her ear, “Dadi Ma wake-up, it's story time." She woke up and looked at me.
"So you are finally here. I was waiting for you, but I don't know how I suddenly started dreaming."
"Once upon a time...," Dadi Ma started. "There was an Aryan Prince, who lost his way in the deserts of Rajasthan. Without food and water he wasn't able to make another step on the sand. He fainted and...and...," slowly her voice dimmed like a light and she started dreaming again.
"Dadi, Dadi Ma what happen to the prince?" I whispered again and again until she woke up and started again.
"And no one was there to help him out, except Laxmi who was a poor villager’s daughter. Laxmi and her father took the prince to their house and...and..."
Everything around me stopped and all of a sudden I saw myself in the desert with the prince. It wasn't Dadi Ma who was dreaming; instead this time it was me who started dreaming.

Krishna Ji (Painting on canvas)

Porcelain Bird