The artists’ films

December 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

I can hear them screaming to be heard. Louder than any human being. They are travelling through their work. Across the rivers and the sea.

Their voices are broken and their eyes are open. They are speaking on behalf of the audience. In low hush volumes, they are uttering syllables of reality.

Suppressed by morals and stuck in juxtaposition. They are discovering a world too broken. They are stopping down to collect the fragments though their fragile yet solid creations.

They have been walking through far away lands. Their eyes tired and their torn hands. Some don’t even utter a word, but I can hear them screaming to be heard.

The artists are reaching out through their work. Beyond borders and futile dimensions. They are expressing their criticisms, opinions and hurt.

I can hear them growing louder with every piece I see. Making an art work of my own private world. They have painfully coloured even my dreams.

Era of forgotten worlds

August 27, 2012 § 1 Comment

I live in the era of forgotten worlds
I love poetry and odissi verse
In the era of twitter and jazz moves
I play golf among the tallest towers.
Play piano in the midst of guitars

My words go unheard,
Lost between a million blogs
I need contacts to make my mark
Yet I wish to remain anonymous
to lead daily peace
Away from competitive minds

 

I don’t want to know about market price
I just want to sit and wait for the sun to rise
Feel the rain, and take a fresh breath inside.
Create things, you can never dream of
Portray beauty in its pure form
Dance like a peacock on the stage.
Be who I am
And relish this only life.

But these times require the economies
The accounts and the business leash
Or I’ll get swallowed by the giant crane
The industrialised n the capitalised state.
So I forget what I love and play
And write in those meetings for the blank face.
And dream about the day to come
When this era ends, and mine comes.

An attempt to read the beauty

December 12, 2011 § Leave a comment

Stand, facing a piece of art work and if it fails to hold your attention, it fails its purpose.

You can only understand the value of a painting, if you actually make an effort to because its all in the mind. Its the way you perceive it. If you stand facing an abstract painting with a nonchalant mind, you’ll never get the intention behind its creation. When an emotion is born out of your thughtful analysis of the whole image, a connection is build up.

I recently visited my first Art festival and I swear, you can take my word for it, that you just cannot spend mere hours in one. It can literally take days for you to relish each art work from your eyes. The whole experience is exalting. Its a completely different one altogether. It calms you up, transporting you to another world. An artist’s world. And at this moment, a peek into its journey begins!

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