Reference pictures for practice

 

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Pictures reflecting Indian culture and tradition.

South Indian Filter Coffee

My sketch enhanced with the help of AI tool 'Perflexcity' .

Filter coffee is woven into the daily rhythm of many South Indian homes, often marking the gentle start of the morning. The aroma of freshly ground coffee powder mixed with hot milk and sugar is, for many, as important as the drink itself.  

## What South Indian filter coffee is  

South Indian filter coffee is made using a special metal filter in which hot water slowly percolates through a mixture of finely ground coffee and chicory. The resulting strong decoction is then mixed with hot milk and sugar, traditionally poured back and forth between a tumbler and davara to cool and froth it. This style creates a rich, fragrant coffee that is quite different from instant coffee or Western espresso-based drinks.  

## Its place in South Indian homes  

For many families, especially in Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Telangana, and parts of Kerala, the first act of the day is brewing filter coffee in the kitchen. The process itself is almost a ritual: boiling milk, preparing fresh decoction, and serving it piping hot while reading the newspaper or planning the day. In countless households, it is often the wife, husband, or an elder who takes pride in getting the strength, sweetness, and aroma “just right” for everyone.  

## Popularity and cultural presence  

South Indian filter coffee is iconic enough that many restaurants and “darshini” or “Udupi” hotels advertise it prominently as “degree coffee” or simply “filter coffee.” It is popular not only in big cities like Chennai, Bengaluru, Hyderabad, and Kochi, but also in small towns where local coffee hotels and tiffin centres are part of everyday life. Over time, its fame has spread beyond the region: speciality cafés across India and abroad now serve “South Indian filter coffee,” and coffee lovers often carry filters and powder with them when they move away, keeping a little taste of home in their cups.

Citations:

[1] 1000632427.jpg https://ppl-ai-file-upload.s3.amazonaws.com/web/direct-files/attachments/images/55940887/bd14e77d-cb70-417c-a32e-ca6e25aba545/1000632427.jpg

Rimjhim ke tarane leke aayi barsat

Rimjhim ke tranaleke aayi barsat

One of my favourite songs from the movie Kala bazar .

Image created with the help of AI

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

याद आए किसीसे वो पहली मुलाक़ात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

याद आए किसीसे वो पहली मुलाक़ात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

चित्रपट : काला बाजार (१९६०)

गीतकार : शैलेन्द्र,

गायक : मोहम्मद रफी, गीता दत्त

संगीतकार : सचिन देव बर्मन

भीगे तन-मन, पड़े रस की फुहार

प्यार का संदेसा लायी बरखा बहार

भीगे तन-मन, पड़े रस की फुहार

प्यार का संदेसा लायी बरखा बहार

मैं ना बोलूँ,

मैं ना बोलूँ, आँखें करें अँखियों से बात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

सुनके मतवाले काले बादलों का शोर

रूम-झूम घूम-घूम नाचे मन का मोर

सुनके मतवाले काले बादलों का शोर

रूम-झूम घूम-घूम नाचे मन का मोर

सपनों का साथी चल रहा है मेरे साथ

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

याद आए किसीसे वो पहली मुलाक़ात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

जब मिलते हो तुम

क्यूँ छिड़ते हैं दिल के तार

मिलने को तुमसे मैं क्यूँ था बेक़रार

जब मिलते हो तुम

क्यूँ छिड़ते हैं दिल के तार

मिलने को तुमसे मैं क्यूँ था बेक़रार

रह जाती है….

रह जाती है क्यूँ होंठों तक

आके दिल की बात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी बरसात

याद आए किसीसे वो पहली मुलाक़ात

रिमझिम के तराने लेके आयी 

Tumhe dekhti hu to lagata hai aise - My pencil illustration for the song

tumhe dekhti hu to lagata hai aise

ke jaise yugo se tumhe janati hu

tumhe dekhti hu to lagata hai aise

ke jaise yugo se tumhe janati hu

agar tum ho sagar

agar tum ho sagar, mai pyasi nadi hu

agar tum ho sawan, mai jalti kali hu

piya tum ho sagar

mujhe meri neende

mujhe meri neende mera chain de do

mujhe mere sapno ki ek rain de do

yahi baat pahale

yahi baat pahale bhi tumse kahi thi

vahi baat phir aaj dohara rahi hu

agar tum ho sagar

tumhe chhu ke pal me bane dhul chandan

tumhe chhu ke pal me bane dhul chandan

tumhare mahak se mahakane lage tan

mahakane lage tan

mere pass aao

mere pass aao gale se lagaao

piya aur tumse kya chahati hu

tumhe dekhati hu to lagata hai aise

ki jaise yugo se tumhe janti hu

agar tum ho sagar

ho o muraliya samajh kar

muraliya samajh kar mujhe tum utha lo

bas ek baar hotho se apni laga lo

bas ek baar hotho se apni laga lo

koi sur to jaage

koi sur to jaage meri dhadkano me

ke mai apne sargam se ruthi hui hu

tumhe dekhati hu to lagata hai aise

ke jaise yugo se tumhe janti hu

agar tum ho sagar, mai pyasi nadi hu

agar tum ho sawan, mai jalati kali hu

piya tum ho sagar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DnNlsuH3ueQ&list=RDDnNlsuH3ueQ&start_radio=1

Here is the translated version of the lyrics 

When I see you, it feels
As if I have known you for ages, for ages
When I see you, it feels
As if I have known you for ages

If you are the ocean,
I am a thirsty river
If you are the monsoon rain,
I am the burning bud

Beloved, you are the ocean
Give me my sleep,
Give me my peace
Grant me a night of my dreams

I said this before,
The same words I said to you before
Again today, I am repeating them

If you are the ocean,
Touching you, I become sandalwood dust
Touching you, I become sandalwood dust
Your fragrance fills my body
Your fragrance fills my body

Come to me,
Come to me, hold me close
Beloved, what else do I want from you?
When I look at you, it feels
As if I have known you for ages

If you are the ocean...

Oh Muraliya (flute), understand me
Understand me like the flute and lift me up
Just once, press your lips on mine
Just once, press your lips on mine
Let some melody awaken
Let some melody awaken in my heartbeat
For I am upset with my own musical note

When I see you, it feels
As if I have known you for ages
If you are the ocean, I am a thirsty river
If you are the monsoon rain, I am the burning bud
Beloved, you are the ocean

This song was sung by none other than great Lata Mangeshkar., composed by Jayadev and written bt Nakshlyal Puri.  It's one of my most favourite songs sung by Lata ji. (My pencil sketch)

Singer : Lata Mangeshkar
Lyricist : Naqsh Lyallpuri
Music Director : Jaidev

The whimsical world of Gift Boxes

Gift Boxes

The image depicts a simple hand-drawn illustration of a gift box with a yellow ribbon and a decorative bow on top. The box is drawn with black outline shading and yellow accents for the ribbon, presented on a light gray background.

Let's dive into the whimsical world of gift boxes.

Imagine a time long ago, in ancient China, where gifts were carefully wrapped in silk fabrics and adorned with intricate knots. These beautifully crafted bundles were the precursors to modern gift boxes. As trade routes expanded, the art of wrapping and presenting gifts spread across cultures.

The concept of gift boxes as we know it today originated in Europe during the Middle Ages. Luxury items like jewelry, perfumes, and fine chocolates were packaged in ornate boxes made from precious woods, metals, and papers. These exquisite containers were status symbols, reflecting the giver's wealth and thoughtfulness.

Fast forward to the Industrial Revolution, mass production techniques made gift boxes more accessible and affordable. The art of gift wrapping evolved, and paper, cardboard, and decorative elements became widely available. Gift boxes transformed into a symbol of celebration, love, and appreciation.

Cultures around the world adopted and adapted this tradition. In Japan, beautifully wrapped gifts with intricate folds and patterns convey respect and gratitude. In India, gifts are often wrapped in vibrant fabrics and adorned with flowers or gold accents. In the West, gift boxes are often associated with special occasions like birthdays, weddings, and holidays.

Today, gift boxes come in all shapes, sizes, and materials, from luxurious velvet to eco-friendly cardboard. They've become an integral part of Indian culture. 

The grand Yawning Champion - funny story

 

The Grand Yawning Championship At 82, Sri Murty had many medals in life – for surviving noisy bus rides, for teaching grandchildren algebra, and for remembering where the spectacles were (usually on his own nose). But nowadays, he seemed to be winning medals only in one strange event: yawning.

Every morning, his day began with a “Good mooorning” yawn that started in his toes, passed through both knees, and finally exploded out of his mouth like a small earthquake. The ceiling fan trembled, the window curtains fluttered, and even the old wall clock ticked a little faster out of fear. The first yawn of the day was powerful enough to make the crow on the compound wall open its beak in sympathy.

One Sunday, Murty decided to keep a secret scorecard. “Let me see how many times this fellow inside me wants fresh air,” he muttered.  By breakfast time, he was already on Yawn Number Ten. The dosa on his plate looked offended. “Am I so boring?” it seemed to ask. By noon, he had crossed twenty.  Even the television newsreader, who was busy repeating the same headlines for the third time, seemed to pause cautiously, as if afraid that the next yawn would come out of the screen. The trouble was that Murty’s yawns were highly contagious. If he yawned in the living room, the granddaughter in the bedroom yawned automatically, the neighbor’s dog stretched and yawned at the gate, and somewhere in the next street a retired banker felt suddenly sleepy for no reason at all. The whole colony risked going off to sleep in broad daylight. One day, after a gigantic afternoon yawn, even the Wi‑Fi signal dropped for a few seconds, as if it too needed a power nap. 

That evening, his family held an emergency meeting. “Thatha, your yawns are going out of control,” announced the grandson. “We should enter you in some world record book before the batteries in that mouth run out.” The granddaughter suggested a title: “The Grand Yawning Championship – Champion: P. Murty, Age 82, Weight: classified.” The family decided they must train him properly. They made a mock stadium in the hall. The sofa became the starting line, the dining table became the finish line, and the gold medal was a shining round biscuit.

The rules were funny and strict.For a short yawn, he got one point. For a medium yawn with stretching of both arms, two points. For a deluxe yawn with eye-watering, shoulder-cracking, and a small sound effect like “Aaaah-oooh,” five points.Murty took the game very seriously. He warmed up with some jaw exercises, rotating his face left and right like a slow‑motion owl. Then, at the whistle, he started his performance. Within minutes, he had produced a deluxe yawn that made even the family’s framed photos look drowsy. The children clapped wildly. The biscuit‑medal was already as good as his.However, in the middle of all this fun, the sensible grandmother appeared with a cup of hot herbal tea. “Enough Olympics,” she said. “If yawning has become this frequent, we must also check whether you are sleeping well, drinking enough water, and not spending the whole night making friends with your mobile phone.” Murty tried to protest, but another yawn escaped, proving her point. The family agreed that while the Grand Yawning Championship was excellent entertainment, a small check‑up with the doctor and some proper rest were also part of the training plan.

That night, Murty went to bed early for the first time in weeks. He lay there smiling. “Imagine,” he thought, “at this age I have discovered a new sport where I can defeat all the youngsters without running even one step.” With that happy thought, he produced one last silent, satisfied yawn – not the noisy earthquake type, but a gentle good‑night version. The fan spun peacefully, the curtains rested, and even the neighborhood crow finally closed its beak. And somewhere, in a future record book that only grandfathers can see, a new entry appeared: “World Champion Yawner – still active, but currently asleep.” 

చెక్కిలి మీద చెయ్యి చేర్చి చిన్నదాన.. woman with her hand on cheek - pencil sketch

The image is a pencil sketch of a woman with her hand on her cheek, looking contemplative. She has dark hair pulled back, a bindi on her forehead, and a bracelet on her wrist. The sketch is signed "Ponnada Mutty" in the bottom-right corner.

Below the sketch, there's text in Telugu that reads: "చెక్కిలిమీద చెయ్యిచేర్చి చిన్నదానా నీవు చింతపోవు వెందుకే ఇంతలోనా..!?"

Translated to English, it roughly means: "Little one, why are you so worried with your hand on your cheek like this?"

The overall mood of the sketch is one of thoughtfulness and perhaps a hint of concern or sadness.

(My sketch analysed by Meta AI)