Madhubani and Mithila art

 Mirror becomes a razor when it's broken, Wood becomes a flute when it's loved...

  

                           1. ink on paper                                              2.ink and metallic gold on paper

Flute

Listen to this soothing track by Ananda Shankar

 

A World of Scarecrows

 

 

Who is a Scarecrow?
People who are mentally ill, or people who make them feel one?
What is insanity?
Who then is really normal?
A world, a World of Scarecrows

In the process of my training in psychology, I often wondered why is it that people who are different, people who challenge the so called 'normality' are put into grids, as if stratified into rows and columns? We all do it, society does it. We box them and keep them aside. We adhere to the manual. We dictate them as right or wrong, as eccentrics, probably as even the scum of the earth. We justify our acts so as to keep the society safe, not bothering to see whether THEY are safe at all.

The play ‘A World of Scarecrows’ is an attempt to create Mental Health Awareness amongst common people and to give them a glimpse into the lives of people suffering from distinct psychological disorders, the stigmas they're often subjected to and the ridicule they face at the hands of the society. We targeted particularly four psychological disorders, namely-Schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anorexia Nervosa and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. The presentation culminated in the form of the stage production with elements of music, lights and an installation. With this, we asserted the necessity of being receptive to their needs and to integrate them through adjustment as part of the larger society.
A milestone worth mentioning is when we were invited to stage our play at a medical conference in Ram Manohar Lohia (RML) Hospital. Here, targeting a different audience was an experience that will be much cherished!

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Attention Deficit

Ink,Metallic gold and acrylic on paper. (A4)

Intzaar...

युहीं लम्हें बीतते रहे,
रातें कटती रहीं
युहीं सासें चलती रहीं ।
इंतज़ार बड़ता रहा,
इंसान तड़पता रहा ...


युहीं  आफ़ताब पिघलता रहा,
चांदनी चमकती रही 
युहीं रागिनी गूंजती रही ।
इंतज़ार चेहेकता  रहा,
इंसान बेहेकता रहा... 


युहीं महफ़िलें सजती रहीं,
समाः बंधता रहा 
युहीं बे-वजह धागे उलझते रहे।
इंतज़ार मचलता रहा ,
इंसान खल्ता रहा...

युहीं आहटें धीमी होती रहीं,
करवटें बदलती रहीं 
युहीं सिलवटें बिगड़ती रहीं ।
इंतज़ार तैरता रहा,
इंसान डूबता रहा...

युहीं घड़ी की सूइयाँ घूमती रहीं,
वक़्त ढलता रहा
युहीं रक्त बहता रहा।
इंतज़ार थमता रहा , गलता रहा, बुझता रहा 
इंसान दीवाना हो गया ...

१०.३.२०१२  

my intzaar sketch done a few years back- http://13freebird.blogspot.in/2011/09/blog-post.html
 

Freebird...

Sharing a beautiful rendition of a punjabi poem by Shiv Kumar Batalvi- Jee Chahe Panchhi Ho Jaava sung by Jasleen Royal.

The original poem and its translation is as follows:

Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan,
Ud daa jaavaan, gaunda jaavaan,
Anchuhe sikharaan nu Choo paavaan,
Is duniya deeyaan raahvaan bhul ke
Pher kade na vaapas aavaan.

I wish that I could be a bird
That I could fly, that I could sing,
That I could touch untouchable peaks,
That I could forget the roads of the world,
And never return.

Ja ishnaan karaan vich jam-jam
La Deekaan peeyaan daan da paani.
Maan-sarovar de beh kande
Tutta jiha ik geet maen gaavaan.
Ja baethaan vich khireeyaan royeean
Phakaar pauna itar-sajoeeyaan.
Him-Teesiyaan moiyaan moiyaan
Yugaan yugaan taun kakkar hoiyaan
Ghut kaleje maen garmaavaan.
Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan. 

I would bath luxuriously
Drinking long sips of water.
By the shore of a great lake,
I would sing a halting song.
I would go into a flowering wilderness
Gulp the perfume laden winds.
I would warm in a tight embrace,
The peaks of mountains,
Deadened by centuries of freezing cold.
I wish that I could be a bird.

Hoe aahlana vich shatootaan,
Jaan vich jand, kareer, sarootaan,
Aaun poorere de seet faraate,
Lachkaare iyun laen Daaliyaan
JyuN koi Doli kheDe jaReeyaan
Vaal khalaari lae lae jhootaan.
Ik din aisa jhakkarh jhulle
Ud pud jaavan sab hi teelee
Be-ghar be-dar main ho jaavaan.
Saari umar peeyaan ras gham da
Aise nashe vich jind handaavaan,
Jee chaahe panchi ho jaavaan.


My nest would be among the mulberry trees,
On in the caper, the mesquite or the cypress.
When the cold east wind blew
The jewelled branches would bend
As if playing, swaying
With their hair flying in the wind.
One day there would be a storm
And all the twigs would all scatter.
Nestless, homeless, I would become,
For the rest of my life I would drink the nectar of sorrow
And live my life in its intoxication.
I wish that I could be a bird...

source: jee chahe panchhi ho jaava

Nargissi Nargissi...

So just another day i when i was taking my quick evening nap, Dad storms into my room to get me flowers.. but this time it was different.. coz the flower itself was different. And before giving them, he says a dialogue:

"हजारों  साल  नर्गिस  अपनी  बेनूरी  पे  रोती  है

बड़ी  मुश्किल  से  होता  है  चमन  में  दिदाह-ए-वर  पैदा!"

 In my semi-slumber state i confuse the dialogue to be from the movie Mughal-e-Azam.. but then I figure out it's none other than Pakeezah. ahh...well, both are dad's absolute favourites and we've watched them together over zillion times! Nevertheless i do eventually get the beautiful Nargis flowers... overpowered by its fragrance, i put them in my bedroom. So officially i declare it as my favourite flower: Nargis. 

The poetry is by Sir Dr. Allama Iqbal and the movie Pakeezah ends with this dialogue in Kamal Amrohi's voice... =)

"Hazaron Saal Nargis Apni Benoori Pe Roti Hai
Badi Mushkil Se Hota Hai Chaman Mein Didahwar Paida"

For a thousand years the narcissus has been lamenting its blindness;
With great difficulty the one with true vision is born in the garden.

In White and yellow: Nargis

 23.1.12

24.1.12: Oh My! revelation! :) =/ just discovered that the Nargis flower is nothing but a variant specie of the flower-Narcissus or more commonly called DAFFODILS!

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils...

-William Wordsworth!

oh! aren't they just soo beautiful?! =) sigh.

source: Dr Allama Iqbal poetry
read more about: Narcissus the flower

 

Water Talk

One of my favourite of the several Yoko Ono conceptual instructions that i read at her exhibition recently...

You are water
I’m water
we’re all water in different containers
that’s why it’s so easy to meet
someday we’ll evaporate together

but even after the water’s gone
we’ll probably point out to the containers
and say, “that’s me there, that one.”
we’re container minders...

To read more of her instruction art visit this site: yoko ono