The blend of nature with the unbreakable waste making an art on its own.

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Humans have always been attached to their surroundings, people and things which provides them with the ability to relate with the emotion. And we have tendency to forget about those which once provided us with the source we needed. The value of an object remains till it has something to fulfill our need for. Walking through a street, we come across things in road like a plastic cup which once served tea in it crushed as if it just died. Though it had a short life to do a job but it passed way to out in a road. This was just a thought which made me think of how less we care for things which serves a part in a day. Things which
make the street of India polluted. Things that can be arranged to make a pattern, an art of it.

                          I tried my imagination of connecting the waste (products) to those matters which are found in nature, making a rhythm, a metaphor from it. So here is a short poem going on before your eyes. Portraying those polluted streets, into a forced, planned still lifes of the forgotten used products.