Triumph and the Pain

This piece comes from an old broken part of my life that made me wake up in the middle of the night and make what i then called- TRIUMPH AND THE PAIN

This is one artwork that is way too close to my heart

(it is an improvisation of a perfume campaign photography)

and it is one painting of mine that i will never sell.

coz no matter where i get in life someday this always reminds me what life is really worth - what it is in life that holds purpose - what is it that keeps me going -

this artwork is my own little answer for all my questions of my little mortal life.

TRIUMPH & THE PAIN

It is worth the agony,
It is worth the pain,
Worth all the moments
that drove me insane.

Worth all the wounds
felt deep in my heart,
worth all the tortures
that almost tore me apart.

This one moment of ecstasy,
Of winning against all odds,
I’m still weary of the wounds
But feel blessed by the Gods.

Standing up for what I believe in
And finding victory to my name;
This one moment of triumph,
Makes it worth all the pain.

This one moment of triumph,
Makes it worth all the pain.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

Aereon's Ecstacy

Medium: pencil and ash on paper
Artist: Pushkaraj Shirke
Status: work in progress

RANDOM NOTE:
Life has some weird equations. I never quite exactly understand the reason why pain and art are always so close to eachother - like a perfectly balanced equation that fills each void. Hurt - the one most inevitable aspect of life, can have a million consequenes - some of which i have known just too closely to be comfortable with. I earlier never realised what drew me to art every time i came across the BLUE side of life. Everytime i was pulled down, the hurt turned to art. but as time has passed on... i realised one thing. EVERYTHING is the way it is, coz thats the way its meant to be. ITS UPTO YOU TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. Im glad my life is the way it is. It just makes more sense every time i look back upon it.

I know this random note makes no sense to most of you - but for those who have know me and know what i speaking about - or all of those who have know how it feelsto vent out an ache that kills u within... im sure you know exactlywhat i mean.

Love,
Pushkaraj Shirke

The pyre

They stand at the pile
all wooden and dead
the smile their dirty smiles
of lies and hate
for they have him inside
trapped alive but dead.
They set it on fire
and it burns bright
but not half as the gleam
that now lights up their eyes.
He dosent scream
nor moan he does...
its just a silent tear
that he feeds the pyre.
Is he hurt enough
to burn and die?
Is he dead enough
to live another lie?
He was born of the fire
that they try to make his end.
He has lived with the fire
that they try to make his end.
All he has to do
is just rise up again
to command the flames
back to his feet again...
but he dosent move,
he just lies there still...
as the pyre burns him down
in blazing timbers of lies,
burning toungues that scar his flesh
scars that burn to ashes dead.
He lies there dying, almost dead.
It was never the flames nor the cinders
that even scorched his head
what burns him true,
is not that pyre of hate,
what chars him alive
is that ONE last lie.

-Pushkaraj Shirke

10 grams [contd- segment 2]

"This is my confession, o mighty lorrrrrrrrd of darkness!"

BANG!

"to my world devoid of light..
in my rights and my wrongs, within the goods and the bads, legal and illegal, holy and evil... This is my world. of life."

BANG!

"I know the choices i make may never be wholly understood... and this brutality not forgiven"

BANG!

"but this is the life i have come to lead. and i seek no understanding or fucking forgiveness..

for i have made my choices.. and my redemption this is

for someday when im gone motherfcker..."

KICK!

"these paths that i have tread on...
might not be needed to be tread again."

BANG!

Amen.

LIVE IN HELL, ASSHOLE!

BANG!.........................................