Are those tomatoes on your arm?
Yes; juicy baby tomatoes; they were plenty in the wild where I come from. They are perfectly round, all of them, transparent, almost. You can count the number of seeds, if you are good at counting. Pluck them as many as your little hand can hold, wipe them. Gently bite off the bottom, count the sugar grains in your hand and sprinkle. Take a coconut stick, stir them clock wise once and anti-clock wise, twice. And when the sugar is mixed with the juice you put the baby tomatoes in your mouth and there you have, the perfect tomato burst in your mouth!
On one such Sunday afternoon with my sister in the woods, we ran, around the bushes, jumping the fence and I did a ‘Hanuman’ jump and slipped and fell. I broke my hand!
My hand has never been straight afterward that day; it broke in the middle. But, when I joined my first dance class, everybody was so envious about my perfectly curved hand. Then it struck me how art allows imperfection and it gives you an opportunity to embrace it. The imperfection of the everyday, it inspires me as an artiste.