a change is just around the corner

///--->>>rethinking art, contemporaneity and (my)self

Works and Curations

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

just another story


as we walk the sun begins to set
the allure of the night and its darkness rises
months spend on tearing the fabric
now trying to put together a beautiful patchwork piece
the little bird, the window and the tree
patterns that emerge as the patchwork jigsaw grows

form a girl to a woman
the story goes on and on

as we sleep the moon begins to set
the allure of the dawn and the dew laden buds of baby pink roses
months spend flying so far away
that there was no longer any wind beneath my wings
the little bird, the window and the tree
begin to emerge as i fly closer home.

form a girl to a woman
the story goes on and on

went for a walk but my knees were bent

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 12 July 2010 at 04:41
no trust
no shit
mindless indulgence
heartless dependence


no heart
no soul
a shadow of a soul mate
memories of a trust that would never forsake

we can run
we can hide
breathing in though a small pink skirt
always thought i could never get hurt

yes sir
no sir
the nursery rhyme went
went for a walk but my knees were bent

not worth fighting

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Thursday, 04 November 2010 at 14:34
a smile on a fragile face
moser
mornings
nights
the last rains of the monsoon
window sills
birthdays
tiny hands
coffee rent
the cramps in her stomach
the strength of magic
many many broken cups
a house by the lake

collateral damages of an army assault
in kashmir
in delhi
in kolkata
in nagaland

don't feel like fighting back
the army has no conscious
its not worth fighting against

the smile upon my face

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Friday, 12 November 2010 at 02:16
you see the smile upon my face
you even clicked my best memories
black coffee and cigarettes are my only friends
you had to go, could have gone with grace

and then the stars shine upon your face
and confuse me with a cruel mix of memories
no home left now i know that for sure
i just drop in a promise to leave without a trace

but you will always see a smile upon my face
even though you clicked my best memories
black coffee and cigarettes are my only friends
you had to go, could have gone with grace

my letter to a hmming bird

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Friday, 12 November 2010 at 21:12
fresh as a morning dew on a lotus petal
that's how you came to me
the innocent soul who climbed my stairs
that's how i will remember thee


showered by your  promises
showered by your love
smitten by your hunger
i held your hand and smiled at the heavens above

tiny hands for the junkies soul
the gods had sent, or so i was told

the innocent soul who climbed my stairs
that's how i will remember thee
will try my best to understand
all the lies you said to me

A short note...taking off from HG Arun's photograph: The Other (from the series Feed)


by Rahul Bhattacharya on Thursday, 10 September 2009 at 06:45
A short note...taking off from a photograph: The Other (from the series Feed)


Images set off associations....a late saturday night party..staying up post party...reading some Tehelka back issues. This work of Arun's flashed across my mind as read through a report on the Sang Parivar's enterprise of making cow urin cola. So enamoured we are with our tradition, that we think lacing soda and poison with cow urin (gau jal) and calling it is our best retort to American cultural imperialism. This image came flashing back as I read on...and the head of the Haridawar based gau shala and manufacturing unit ( run by the Cow Protection Board of the RSS) was passionately explain how they built up a caste system, the caste hierarchy of the ox...he went on to talk about how it was scientifically proven that cow urine has beneficial for heath in an all encompassing way. I began to wonder what stops us from engaging a bit more closely with our common sense.

One does not need to a skeptic to realize that the properties of urine are dependent on consumption habits. Since Agnivesh Tantra was written ( a 4th century AD text containing the seeds of Ayurveda) the consumption habits and availability of fodder for cows in the sub continent have drastically been altered.
Am my mind woke up and started racing lazily I remembered an Indian Express article mentioning that the Cow Protection Board has been injecting steroids to increase urine production (administered with steroids to increase milk production), one did not know whether to laugh or to cry.


-------------
a note added by a friend:
Everything is distorted. The more i think about it, the more it seems that we function mostly due to our ability to distort what we see. Ugliness is masked under necessity, kitsch and charm, under a string of terms designed to subdue a need to cry foul at a visceral degradation of most things around us. steel and glass seems acceptable, until you step out of the city and notice it surrounded by hills and it finally dawns on you that there's something wrong with what you have accepted.

 
Image details: medium: digital photograph on archival paper, astroturf Size: 47" x 28" x 3"; unique work ( 119 x 71 x 7.7 cms) Exhibition History: Shown at the Nature Morte , and the Sakshi gallery. sold. Buyer unknown

with grit and in despair

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Wednesday, 28 April 2010 at 01:06
its not that i have nevr taken this path
never had no qualms about picking up a bag and walking alone
its just that a hand feels good when you know the rains have washed away your home
the pain of the absent hand..maybe its better to just pick that bag and walk alone


my home may not stand no more when i reach
home is where the heart is
heartlessly down a un trodden path
holding onto my home with grit...but in despair
feel the need to throw away the bag...to pick myself and walk alone


its not that loneliness is scary
have had my best nights alone..under the starts
but then home is where your heart is
the starlight night weeps at her heartless lover
fighting back his tears with grit but in despair

the twinkel in those eternal eyes
lashed away by the torrential rains
i will pick my bag and come to you one last time
with no grit..no despair
just to gather all my strenghts to be able to pick up my bag and walk alone

a lil maroon watch

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Monday, 25 July 2011 at 22:24

it was november in kolkata
but every-time i could take a breath
i could feel the cold.

that when you came to me
dignified and un assuming
just as your wearer used to be

time had stopped in its tracks
to pay homage to to the lady with the brightest eyes i ever knew
as time stood still...i held you and looked at you

a call came in that night
a lil voice calling from far
the heart felt warm...thinking you wont be alone

then a month later i learnt
you were a lil burden..
destined to be returned.carried you back with love...

promising i will never let ypu be alone
hid you, taking you out to kiss you sometimes
carried you back with all my heart..yet for you time had stopped

heart sinks feeling your loneliness
more so cause i know you are forgotten by now
all i can do is look at you and kiss you again

post utopia


flight flight flight
with wings of wax or maybe those of steel
fly into those sanitary napkins
as the insects fly out

flights of desire
flights of fear
flights for a journey
and flights away from yourself
flights towards sun burn


fly fly fly
with wings of hope and despair
fly into joys and their sorrows
as all my dreams fly out

flights of fancy
flights of pain
flights from trouble
fly towards yourself
but don't crash into a mirror



by Rahul Bhattacharya on Saturday, 05 June 2010 at 15:43

dear mr. fantasy - re take

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Tuesday, 08 June 2010 at 11:23
you are the one who can make it all right
but doing that you break out in tears
please don't leave me like the other men you have
without you there is no way out from my fears


do anything you want
and wallow in your blues
but love this world
and give it all its' dues

you are the one who can make birds fly
but doing so you have lost faith in flight
there is nothing to hide but i try to hide them
without you there is no way out from my lies

flight of justice (written in protest and despair over the bhopal verdict)

by Rahul Bhattacharya on Tuesday, 08 June 2010 at 23:50
 
fly away fly away to your new lover
do you need to twist the knife is as you leave
though blind you were always beautiful to me
take away all that i can give


go away go away...pretend you are not for us
a trail of blood will linger and follow you as you leave
though late you always came to me
today you leave me alone in this house of evil

on door one was truth on the other door was lie
which one to enter through was upto you to decide
but you like coloured rain and poison in the sky
i will be left holding the miscarried hopes of people who have died

Why Reva diaries?


Sometimes one takes oneself at face value, begins to do something without really explaining why. here is a simple note on why i am doing it.

but yes..this camp is rooted in the Marxist strategies of protest, and a certain Gramsian notion of citizenship.

there are two things that are central to the conception and the method adopted in Reva Diaries.

  • citizenship
  • voluntarism                
A close friend of mine has been volunteering with the Narmada Bachao Movement and though her i got to know how a group of volunteers run pillar to post to save farmlands, and to ensure that government at-least gives adequate and legal compensation. at the same time i learnt how large multinationals, would spend large sums of money to ensure that farmers . to my aghast i learnt that companies and industrial lobbies spend enormous amounts of money to deny paltry compensation.

hapeshwar temple submerged Aug 16 2004
the brutality of the colonizing project bit me brutally. and i realized that all this was being done in our name and our silence was being quoted as our consent.
madhya pradesh generates the highest amount of electricity in the country and suffers from the longest ever power-cuts.

we get agitated if there is a power cut during a seminar on environment and ecology...
i thought it's time to draw the line.

there is a cluster of villages that that will be sunk by large reservoir  that is built to take away water and resources away from the land and it people.
tradition fishermen are left jobless... cause now there is a centralized tendering of fishing rights.

in the face of this, i want to respond as a curator and also i knew that the human factor in development interested many of my artist friends.

i have always been vocal about contemporary indian art being disconnected to the large hinterlands over which we are now witnessing a war over resources.thats why the idea of a platform where one can come visit see here....the people, culture and landscape set to be destroyed for our benefit and on the back of our silence.

if to give me electricity  50 villages have to be submerged, how am i better than a terrorist.
with all its faults NBA is a voluntary based non violent  movement- two values that i think should be central to any public engagement.

i am not going to mention it in my bio or present it as a paper in a seminar till a more serious engagement happens....right now it's just an attempt to say if we want maybe not a single more village needs to be submerged.

And i can only react as a curator. i cant do rallies, or fight court cases ican only put artistic energies together and/or create a platform ...and hope

best