Throw a stick, and the servile dog wheezes and pants and stumbles to bring it to you. Do the same before a cat, and she will eye… Read more “She is an actress”
I do resent the way the non-smoking mentality has been imposed on the smoking minority. Because, first of all, in a democracy, minorities do have rights. And… Read more “Contradictory”
A country which is home to innumerable communities living together under a common roof, it is no less than a wonder for us to have remained united even after multitudes of invasions over the past millenia. Ancient Indian sages and philosophers have delved deep into comtemplation to finally get hold of the gem that could probably aid them to maintain peace for centuries to come, and that prized gem is “HOLI”.
In a world which suffers from the gravest forms of caste dissent and religious terrorism, this festival tell us that the difference is only in the perception and not in reality. At the end of the day, each and everyone of us must break the primitive physical barriers of identity and transcend ourselves, so that we can be better human beings with an endless strive towards a lively and sensible future.
The burning of a book is a sad,sad sight, for even though a book is nothing but ink and paper, it feels as if the ideas contained in the book are disappearing as the pages turn to ashes and the cover and blinding– which is the term for the stitching and glue that holds the pages together–blacken and curl as the flames do their wicked work. When someone is burning a book, he is showing utter contempt for all of the thinking that produced its ideas, all of the labour that went into its words and sentences, and all of the troubles that befell the author.
For everything in this journey of life we are on there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger, for the wing of destiny there is fear, for the wing of pride there is humility, for the wing of rejection there is acceptance, for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping. We can only fly with two wings and can only stay in the air if there is a balance. There is a generation of people who idealize perfection as the existence of only one of these wings every time. But I see that a bird with one wing is imperfect. An angel with one is imperfect. A butterfly with a wing is dead. So this generation people strive to always cut off the other wing in the hopes of embodying their ideal of perfection, and in doing so, have created a crippled race.
I was born the day I thought: What is? What was? And What if?
I was transformed the day
My ego shattered,
And all the superficial, material things that mattered
To me before,
Suddenly ceased to matter
I really came into being
The day I no longer cared about
What the world thought of me,
Only in my thoughts for Changing the world.
In the artistic practice of mine, visually seductive images symbolise defiled beauty or forbidden pleasure. With this exclusive new media artwork, burning flower, surrounded by blackness is both given life and destroyed by the surroundings flickering flames, slowly producing a glistening blood-red sap.
Notions of illusion, seduction and destruction become fused as the fire appears dangerous but attractive ; a Victorian sensibility is foregrounded, where base instincts hover just beneath the surface of prosperity.