What does a city mean after 8 years of living, learning, and changing in it.
For me, Brno has been more than streets, it’s been a second home.
Here’s my poem, written for the city.
I came to Brno, skies unknown, from Delhi’s dust to cobblestone.
Fresh from the fire of PhD dreams, to postdoc work and lab-lit beams.
In painted strokes, I found my way, sketching blues and reds and grey.
Childhood brushes long put down, now reborn in this new town.
A racket gripped, a shuttle flies, I chased the bird across the skies.
On wheels I rolled through forest air, cycling past the weight of care.
Squash courts echoed first-time tries, new sports, new ways, a new sunrise.
Even science wore a different face – meiosis, cells, a shifting place.
A car, a license, keys in hand, driving free through Czechia’s land.
A tongue once strange began to bend, and earned me rights that never end. For words I learned, for roots I grew, permanent now, a life more true.
I dove into the water deep, afraid at first, then found my sweep.
I loved, I learned, I let some go, soft lessons only time can show.
But every scar and every start has shaped a braver, fuller heart.
Eight years of firsts, of joy, of strife, of learning not just skills – but life. Brno, you held me while I grew, a place I came to, and came through.
This is one of my very first paintings in Brno. When I was also learning to unfold new wings.
This was my first attempt at painting Buddha. It is a gentle reminder of stillness, balance, and the beauty of each beginnings.