A 'Winter' Anecdote of an 'Autumn' Pleasure

Travelogue 

While walking through the poky alleys of Shahpur Jat, Nisha Aggarwal chanced upon the shops housed in dilapidated buildings, and peeped into its rustic history. She shares her experience as she pulls Shahpur Jat out of the clutches of time.

Two moving needles of a clock contain the most powerful invisible phenomena inside, they move within their periphery repeating the same path, but make us to sense the change in whole world outside. This invisible vigor is 'time' which becomes visible in the form of change; in us, and in our surroundings as well.

We take pictures of ourselves, of everyday happenings and places around. Afterwards we feel, think, juxtapose and sometime enjoy the changes time brought to us, by looking at those pictures. Pictures are not only clicked by camera, human memory also does the same. We grow up in any place and unconsciously witness the process of change, than we may get distant to that place. But after some time becoming part of that same place opens up all the past pictures saved in memory, and 'nostalgia' happens.

It may be my definition of 'nostalgia' or these days I sense it strongly whenever I come to Delhi. With every visit to Delhi I try to touch the bygone, perhaps to know what the changes time has brought in me. When I feel everything is same like it was, I feel happy and when I sense the occurred changes, I feel the 'progress' of time but both the things bring an 'autumn' pleasure. 

I can add an 'anecdote' to this 'autumn' pleasure. Few days back, after a friend's suggestion, I was re-visiting the lanes of Shahpur Jat, in South Delhi. I could see the newly opened spaces and could sense the increasing rents of floors. Shahpur Jat is an old urban village settlement and provides good spaces on rent. A lot of art students, artists and designers take this bustling creative den to make their studios.  A place with troubled lanes, filled of ‘labor class' has become the interest of 'elites'. I felt it necessary to go in its history by talking with few of 'elders' of the place. 

Entry to The Jungi House Lane

Shahpur Jat in South Delhi is a hybrid village enclosed within two of South Delhi's most up-market areas, Asiad Games Village and Hauz Khas. It is listed in Lal Dora areas of Delhi. It has missed the trendy touch of city architecture, yet captures the essence of a city. The veterans of the village say it was founded around 10,000 years ago (8,000 BC) by a Hindu King.  He set up a fort and palace there. But 5000 years back, 'Pandavas' (of Mahabharta) took the stones of that fort to built their Capital 'Indraprastha' few miles away to the place. The excavations in the Old Fort Area confirm the belief that Purana Quila was built on the site of 'Indraprastha'.

In 11th century AD, Tomar (Hindu Jat Clan) ruled Delhi. In 12th century AD, Prithviraj Chauhan was the ruler until his defeat. 13th century AD replaced Hindu rule by Muslim rulers. Mughals ruled Delhi in succession starting from Qutab-ub-din to Khilji and Tughlaqs. In 1303 AD, Allau Din Khilji conquered almost the whole of North India, he erected the First Muslim City of Delhi- 'Siri' on this site. Siri was a fortified city built on a large scale with palaces and other structures and had seven gates to enter or exit the city. Though the remains of only southern gate has found but it is said that the main palace of the fort was very beautiful and profusely decorated with precious gems and stones. Nothing remain of them except parts of its wall, a mosque and a structure called Baradari. Today Shahpur Jat has Tohfewala Gumbad Masjid and ruins of domed structure belonging to Khilji period. 

Entrance to Tohfewala Gumbad

Delhi passed on to the hands of the British in 1803 AD. It was only in 1911, when the capital of British Empire was shifted from Calcutta to Delhi. During this period, 900 years ago the modern history of Shahpur Jat starts. This was the time when Dagar clan from Indri (a village in Haryana) shifted to Shahpur Jat area. The fertile land and their agriculture skill helped them accumulate wealth in a short period of time. This attracted Panwar clan and other castes to the area. By then this area was called Shah (wealth) Pur (colony) Jat (a clan), meant a locality of the rich Jats and acquired the name 'Shahpur Jat'. 

Tohfewala Gumbad-Closer View

This time Shahpur Jat had farmlands spreading from Hauz Khas and Andrewsganj to Greater Kailash and Malviya Nagar. The move came up in 1978, when Government acquired the lands from most of the Jats by paying the sturdy compensations to them. On these acquired lands posh colonies of Asiad Village, Panchsheel Park and Hauz Khas were raised. The Jats with their compensation money expanded their small open houses to cramped up, matchbox like haphazard concrete structures. The multi-stories houses were coming up now. Slowly when the place emerged as the centre for basement workshops and its migrant population bloated, the ex-farmers discovered gold in real estate. The landlords created virtual acres by raising floors on their houses, which they rented to tailoring units. The big fortune came with the arrival of boutiques at the turn of the century.

Tohfewala Gumbad-Left Side View

Today, Shahpur Jat has over a hundred stores of Indian and European fashion, art cafes, book stores and home decors. Few art galleries has also opened up. The designers or artists living here are not notably rich, but they are comfortably creating their art and engaged in the process of their employment. But a large number of stores are shifting their location to Shahpur Jat, from Hauz Khas Village and Khan Market following NDMC crackdowns and high rents. The entry of such gazebo stores seems impatience to grow commercialization. And Shahpur Jat is lifting up as a new alternative space for everything trendy, a status usually reserved for Hauz Khas Village. 

Ruins of Siri Fort Wall
(Backside View of Tohfewala Gumbad from Park)

Still a majority of the designers and the residents want the village to stay the way it is. Larger crowds and bigger brands may rob the 'hybridized' charm of Shahpur Jat, and quiet working spaces of the artists. But people of Shahpur Jat reject the possibility of its fate like of Hauz Khas or Khan Market because of the Jats. The Jat owners in the past 15 years have never sold a single property outside their community, but have only let out spaces on rent. They have also refused all liquor licenses, so there is no bar and pub is seen in the locality.

Inspite of all the 'elite' changes, the unplanned multistory buildings hiding the sky to eyes, the overhanging wires, the peeping eyes of mannequins through the glass walls of designer's shops, and a mix crowd of animals and human (of all classes including the foreigners) both. 

The remains of the Old Fortified history still stand tacit imbibing the whole story of change within. A cyber cafe opened in a senile house keep its artistic value. A closed up Government school just near the entry of Jungi House seems distant and detached from all the capitalist forces of the place. I feel the growing 'art' of economy (of landlords, tailors, designers and all the 'artists' living here) has found a place to survive which has once enjoyed the royal patronage and today enjoying the status of 'alternative' but still a maze. I would conclude with the words of Sam Miller, the writer and historian while standing atop the ruins of a tomb, taking a walk around Shahpur Jat, 'Art lives to survive only when it has a purpose or when it's in the middle of nowhere.'

Originally Published in Travel&Deal Magazine, Issue-06, Vol-II, January 2014

Seppuku: A Hindi Novel on the Shining and Darkness of Indian Art

Book Review

Book Cover:

Seppuku (By Artist Chintan Upadhyay)
Author:
Vinod Bhardwaj
Publisher:
Vani Prakashan, New Delhi
Year:
November 2013
Price:
Rs. 200/-

Attractive glamorous outside always has a different inside reality. A foreseen instance is Cinema world called ‘Bollywood’ in India. The field of visual arts also works under the convictions of fame, money and market. So, is the art field too made of cryptic realities? Do the stories of struggle, survival and success hide betrayal, hoaxing, obscenity with decorum, ealthiness, honesty and voluptuousness? A young art practitioner may think about these questions and an insider only can reply. This is the exact point, where I can mention the short novel ‘Seppuku’ written by art critic and writer Vinod Bhardwaj. 

Vinod Bhardwaj has closely observed, known and judged the art circles of Delhi since 1974. Thus, he is an insider and partaker of art field from almost four decades now. He has witnessed an aura of ‘underground’ created by obscene prodigality in art field after 2002. Then he felt that in 2008 this art world got a jolt and things were exposed. During those days, it stirred his consciousness when he saw the ‘page 3’ picture of ‘smiling’ Manjit Bawa when actually he was in ‘coma’. A long time remaining coma of Manjit Bawa wasn’t the news either. Then he saw the demise of veteran painter like Gaitonde was not the ‘big news’ for newspapers. Those days Bhardwaj tried to figure out the teemed lights and shades of the world of Indian art and poured his grief into his personal notes.  

Including those notes written some years ago, Bhardwaj writes his recent novel ‘Seppuku’. Published by Vani Prakashan, New Delhi, this book has written in Hindi. The book title ‘Seppuku’ derived its impact onto Bhardwaj’s mind while noticing a headline in a newspaper. Besides it he also noticed the popular Hollywood movie ‘Wolverine’ which in opening sequence shows a ritual of ‘Seppuku’ (slitting the stomach) among Japanese soldiers. They did it before the atom bomb is dropped on Nagasaki. Seppuku is a synonym of Hindi word ‘Hara-Kiri’ (hara- stomach, kiri- slitting). In earlier times keeping self modesty was the biggest identity for Feudal warriors. Committing suicide was priority for them over disgrace or letdown, and the way of it was ‘Seppuku’. During the Second World War vanquished soldiers also used to choose ‘Seppuku’. ‘Seppuku’ is a tragic destiny of a self-respectful soldier, but it hides a ritual, philosophy and poem. But when a ‘corporate’ world commits ‘Seppuku’, it can lead larger socio-economical results. And writer feels that this ‘Seppuku’ can be identified, known and tested in art field also. But how the arrival of ‘Modern Seppuku’ has presented by writer in context of art field is the mystery of novel which reader has to catch. 

This novel Seppuku is a portal for readers to peek into the world lived and experienced by Bhardwaj. The incidents intertwined in his mind and heart comes along with imaginative background. Although writer has not used the real names of the mentioned characters/artists, instead he refers the imaginative protagonists as a metaphor. But interestingly as much he keeps his protagonists look unidentified, they open their identity while reading. However writer mentions his conversations with painter Francis Newton Souza, Nobel Prize receptor Mexican poet-writer Octavio Paz, and Ravi Jain of Dhoomimal Art Gallery in several contexts. Writer has combined the various characters, incidents and situations in an experimental technique to reveal the ‘zolaism’ of art. It contains honest struggle of artist yet speaks another aspect of foul play and corruption. 

Compiled of 11 short chapters the novel saves the curiosity of reader in titles of chapters itself as, ‘life is beautiful’, ‘seppuku’, ‘chumban rani aur uska thappad (kissing queen and her slap)’, ‘Suhas Hande ki ajeeb dastan (weird story of Suhas Hande)’, ‘ek gatecrasher ki aatmkatha (biography of a gatecrasher)’, ‘lady chhah footi (lady of a six feet height), ‘lady sweet and sexy’, ‘fake ka cake aur hara tota (cake of fake and green parrot)’, ‘kissa pita ke naam prempatra ka (fable of a love-letter to father)’, and ‘car, action aur mister ten percent’. First chapter starts from mongrel attitude of Page3 culture and its vultures. It goes ahead in next chapters telling the stories of success and failures, amorous lives of artists, birth of gatecrashers in parties and their ‘elevation’, unstable relationships, trade of artist’s assistants and questions of originality, coarseness and ‘commercialization’ pervaded in art field and ends the read with ‘thriller’ style ‘Antim adhyay (the last chapter)’. Writer has not shied away of using the ‘indecorous’ words but interestingly it has shaped the humor, wit and satire.

This 103 paged Hindi novel one can read in a few hours single sitting and a translated version in English by Brij Sharma will be followed soon.

Trajectory of Trash and Transmigration

Review

A quiet world of subdued hues unravels in Tanmoy Samanta's works at Gallery Espace, in the solo, 'All I have learned and forgotten' made from traditional materials dowsed in untraditional thoughts, reviews Nisha Aggarwal.

Two pronged antagonism indited through the colors and sublunary objects, yet divulging the harmony, balance and symmetry. This is what lies at the surface of Tanmoy Samanta's paintings and 3D-book installations. It effuses into denser world of artist, as one engages conversing to multiple layers of the works. I devolved into artist's profound personal world, while visiting his third solo show at Gallery Espace, Community centre, New Delhi, titled 'All I have learned and forgotten' commenced from December 12, 2013 till January 11, 2014.

The show engulfs 20 works soldering painting and 3D materials which takes viewer into evocation of time, space, memory and then beyond to it. Tanmoy collects junked keys, locks, clocks, old books and maps that no longer keep their functional value. He ambles around flea markets and street shops in lost lang synes searching these 'out of time' objects. Then these objects are transformed into motifs that also appear often in his 2D works/paintings. Old books, glued the pages together, layered with rice paper, carved shapes out of the paper and added other objects to them evince another life they hold within. His recycled book 'shadow palace' shows how a colossal structure can disappear yet stay alive in the latent of one's mind. The protagonist here is a palace, which is symbolic of any building that has/had a denoting effect. It accosts that something dominion can be left behind just as a shadow without a body.

Shadow Palace

Tanmoy's fervor of reading travelogues, indulgence with maps, globes, interest of tracing countries and continents exhorts in his work 'Cartographer's Paradox-I and II. He brings in all continents and countries together by rendering the dividing line invisible. Here, he becomes a mapmaker playfully making the 'jumbled up' maps without line and borders, tracing the inspiration from John Lenon's 'Imagine'. One side, it questions the concept of political boundaries and on the other hand, gives them a new identity similar to his recycled books. He explicates these found materials both as an artefact and a medium. Thus, his artistic process becomes metamorphosis to these objects giving them a new life, and manifold interpretations.

The Padlock

His paintings also delineate the potential of umpteen testimonies. For instance, object like human figures, void like objects, eggs like void, unidentified objects like animals, weight that creates emptiness, and amorphous shapes seize the viewer into a zone of daze, arcanum, fantasy, poetry and philosophy. A sitting green figure holding a 'heavy' vacuum in one hand and a 'line' in other hand says what? An anhistous form lodged onto a red seated 'chair for nobody' is who? 'A pair of gold-fish' gives stance of tailor's scissors or tailor’s scissors are kept in aquarium like bowl? A globe glares like eclipsed moon or it's a shaky picture of a globe only? In 'at dusk' a bird is perched on a gun or on a branch? Watch dials incased in a 'bee-hive' shape makes 'the time hive', are examples of some 'visually created' questions to embroil the viewers. This 'visual play' becomes the interplay of simultaneous act of remembering and forgetting, for artist and viewer both.

A Chair for Nobody

Images, not of artistic imagination instead gathered from his surroundings create frozen narratives allowing the multiple readings. They are like statements of enlightened philosopher loaded with layers of meaning. Artist's spanking control over line drawing makes him able to navigate images into one another, or transmigration of them. His technique has developed from the traditional Japanese school of painting where linearity is maintained while not losing the corpulence of figures. His training as a painter at Shantiniketan is evident in the selection of traditional media like fragile rice paper, gouache, and pigments. It itself traces the history in the works of Abanindranath and Rabindranath Tagore both (artists of Shantiniketan tradition). But the choice of traditional mediums has not impounded the relevance of his contemporary images and themes.

A Pair of Goldfish

Tanmoy's works expands into conceptual territory of magical realism, which is because he read a lot. His parents belonging to the field of literature, made him exposed to classics in his childhood itself and he continued reading them. A self-confessed fan of writers like Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Franz Kafka, Tanmoy says that colors in his color palette stems from his nature. His toned down and muted colors reflect him to be an introvert. He starts out with brighter and darker ones, but consciously mellows them down to subdue the cacophony of hues. Working on more than one canvas together, he creates multiple layers of the colors under the visible ones. He uses wash colors to get the fluidity of watercolors and the opaqueness of other paints. This way, his simple sounding works imbibe the complexity of process, meaning and interpretation. They dilate the level of epochal image-making from ordinary to extra-ordinary, and trace the trajectory of trash and transmigration, of images and objects both.

(First appeared in The Art Daily online)

A Utopia Not So Far

Review

Inquiring into the historical salt march of 1930 and the near extinct Azrakh traditions, artist and textile designer Shelly Jyoti weaves a fabric using socio-economic and cultural threads of Gandhian philosophies in her installation works, reviews Nisha Aggarwal.

The solo show of Shelly Jyoti's new works titled 'Salt: The Great March: Re-contextualing Azrakh Traditions in Contemporary Art and Craft' was a thought-provoking, visual and aesthetical experience. The show was on view from 28th September to 20th October, 2013 at Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts (IGNCA), New Delhi. Shelly is an India-based textile designer, a literature graduate and a visual artist by choice. She investigates and revisits the areas of nationalism, history, gender, textile and visual arts by presenting her art works in a socio-economic and cultural context of India. The solo includes a set of four installations, 25 Azrakh prints on khadi cloth taking 12 different Azrakh design references, multimedia spoken poetry followed by a slide presentation, which includes her last two and half years consistent efforts.

Art Works from the Show 'Salt: The Great March'

'Salt: The Great March' is a complementary continuation of Shelly's earlier series 'Indigo', where she traces the colonial exploitation of Indigo farmers and craftsmen by the British. Shelly has been working with textile workers and traditional crafts women and in 2009, it led her to Bhuj, Gujarat to work with 9th and 10th generations of Azrakh artisans who migrated to India in the early 17th century from Sindh and Baluchistan and settled in north-west Gujarat. She began her journey for Salt by reading Mark Kurlansky's 'Salt: A World History' and then proceeded with a deeper inquiry into Mahatma Gandhi's historical Salt March.

Mahatma Gandhi's Salt March known as Salt Satyagraha, began from Gandhi's Sabarmati's Ashram near Ahmedabad, to the sea coast near the village of Dandi in 1930. Supported by growing numbers of Indians, this 240-miles march to access salt without paying taxes, took 24 days and was a direct non-violent protest against the British salt monopoly in colonial India.

Shelly tried to retrace Gandhi's footsteps after 87 years of the march by applying the Gandhian philosophy in contemporary India through her art works. Stories of Salt, Indigo and Khadi in India's history are entwined with the non-violent rebellion against colonial forces for Swaraj.

With Salt, Shelly shows Indigo and Khadi as materials formed by a sense of responsibility of an artist to preserve, use and elevate selfhood, and to spread awareness about 'swadeshi' and to rekindle a sense of 'swadharma' and 'sarvodaya' philosophies. Apart from exploring the application of these Gandhian philosophies in today's world, her research in Azrakh printing and dyeing techniques on khadi and quilting was an extended exploration to convert printing and dyeing techniques into art works.

Installation by Shelly Jyoti

The installations made up of Salt, 50,000 threads from 50 attis produced by the weavers, 8 ply Khadi clothes printed with Sanskrit Calligraphy, chenille pipe cleaners, fabric and threads were a metaphoric representation of the 'Khadi spirit' of India and different communities living harmoniously in a united nation. The Khadi cloth, threads and attis, the spinning yarn and charkha metaphorically speak of the need for action and commitment towards the use of Swadeshi, where the society still lives in the post-colonial era of western influences. Shelly has woven a dream of a Gandhian 'Utopia' where the India is a united and independent nation through the empowerment of its socio-economic, cultural, feminine and peripheral energies.

Originally Published in Art&Deal Magazine, Issue:65/Vol.9, No.34/November 2013

Nothingness of Something

Review

The world around us is generally discernible by the placation of two opposite pylons, which could be similar or opposite in nature but are prevalent in every core of human life. Flipping the crucial coin of nature versus progress, artist Priyanka Govil presents a subtle polemic through her art work, reviews Nisha Aggarwal.

Like a pendulum of a clock that repeats its path between two limits, art too has ranked between figuration and abstraction as a linguistic and stylistic discourse, with semi-abstraction being agreeable to both. To decipher the difference between the three and to discern the gradual progressions from one to the other is as abstruse as trying to separate one grain of sand.

A sense of analogical disparity prompted my visit to the solo show of artist Priyanka Govil's selected works at Art Bull, New Delhi presented by Gallery Art Konsult from 11th-30th September, 2013. Delhi-based Priyanka has obtained her BVA and MVA in Painting from Faculty of Fine Arts, Maharaja Sayajirao University, Vadodara. She is the recipient of Inlaks India Award 2010 and has had many solo, curated, as well group shows in India to her credit.

Priyanka's work could be seen as landscapes, including rivers, roads, mountains etc. that one finds in nature or in the man-made world around. In a few other works, the subtle subjective images kept in created spacious backgrounds reveal the sublimity of natural scenes. But interestingly, her works are mental projections of the images, objects, architectures and natural scenes that she has collected in memory, which emerge as landscapes. She replaces the natural elements with mundane household objects in some places by merely suggesting their presence. She rarely uses human figures, ironically, this stark absence hints at the very presence of the human.

By using a borderline abstraction in her figuration, and replacing natural with the manmade, Priyanka shows her concern for an environment with fast depleting natural resources and the rapidly changing landscape of today. The ghost like presence of humankind speaks of human interventions which has caused these changes not just in natural landscapes, but cultural landscapes as well. Priyanka's work depicts the two faces of the coin of progress versus a fast-vanishing environment.

In this collection, Priyanka has adopted a simply layered, textured surface using dry mediums like charcoal and crayons, encouraging a visual touching of the surface by the viewer. The effect is that of a woven fabric which is highly textured. Priyanka's palette toggles between neutral browns, ochres, grays and black, interspersed with a use of a sharp red which denotes a kind of danger in an otherwise mundane mental landscape.

Untitled, Archival & Photo Ink on Paper
with LED lights on back,
4.5"x5.5"(each), 30 pieces, 2012-13

Priyanka's art works display a symbiosis of tactility yet intangibility, abstraction yet figuration, absence yet presence and deliberation yet spontaneity. They are landscapes, but at the same time they are not landscapes, they are made of minute strokes, but offer a wider image of the artist's imagination. They present the belongingness to various opposite aspects which transcends from its something to its nothingness. A visit to Priyanka's show takes the viewer to the wake of an estuarine coexistence of both,'the this as well as the that' in perfect harmony.

Originally Published in Art&Deal Magazine, Issue 65/Vol.9, No.34/November 2013

Remembering that journey of Intercity Express

Travelogue

A Decisive visit to ever busy Delhi offered her a path and an ambition for future whereas stay in serene and scenic Andhra taught her to live in the present. Nisha Aggarwal shares how the journeys complemented each other and touched her life.

Life itself is a journey, perhaps, so many journeys put together. However some journeys are unplanned. They just happen, exactly the same way crucial decisions are taken in life. There is a difference between leisurely journeys and the decisive ones. Decisive journeys could change your life and transform you into a new, shining and elevated self. I cannot ever forget the month of May, 2004 when I travelled to Delhi from Sri Ganganagar, Rajasthan along with my parents and younger brother. On that summer afternoon, I was confronting a new world. Vacuous eyes of the fellow passengers were still watching me. The rhythm of steel created by the wheels of the Intercity Express resonated the rythm of my heart that was anxiously beating at the expectation of the unknown.

As a child I had always imagined a life in a metro. It was a 'long lived' imagination because it was my third trip to Delhi. The earlier visits were, one during my summer vacation after my senior secondary examination in 2001, and afterwards during some family occasion in 2003, but both were to my uncle's house, who has been living in Delhi for a long time. These visits had evoked a desire in me; to live in this city for long to know a bit deeper than its glittering skin.

The holidays that I had spent at my uncle's home began with a morning drive to the local attractions that included 'nariyal pani', chaat and at times a sumptuous breakfast at some restaurants. Lazy afternoons were spent in watching movies in home theatre and the engrossing evenings were earmarked for visiting India Gate, Birla Temple, Lotus Temple and some multiplexes or shopping malls. At night the city roads revealed a different scenario before us, the children. I realized that in this city I could pursue my creative life which I was not able to do in Rajasthan. I used to spent a lot of time in completing my cousin's holiday art assignments and projects which brought prizes and appreciation. Whereas I didn't have much to do in the name of art at school level apart from some self initiated competitions by my classmates.

Now, I come back to my third travel to Delhi after my graduation in 2004 from Rajasthan, which I call decisive because it was not merely a 'visit' instead it was a permanent shift along with the family. It was decisive at the same time critical. Life transforms, as I mentioned elsewhere, when confronted with critical moments. It gives you a new shell to hide or flaunt yourself. But destroying the old could cause a little panic.

Shedding the old shell for me, thanks to Delhi, was easier. Two years I spent wandering around doing various jobs; starting with dress designing and stitching for a boutique, computer teaching and later on dialing unknown numbers in CA's office, in a passport consultancy, in a call centre and in a bank's loan department etc. I was experiencing a 'new' Delhi and looking at the lives of the middle class, their aspirations, snobbishness, meanness and desires. But it was now time for me to make friends. And once the friends were made, I was seeing the glamorous side of the city too. May be that time glamour for me was merely observing the style statements of the girls passing through Delhi's roads or learning the basics of how to walk and how to talk.

Outer changes cannot bring the necessary internal transmutation. It needs a plumbing of your soul and I found art as the best route to transmute. In 2006, against my family's wishes, I decided to become a fine art student. My transformation was slow in the initial days but steady. The severity of the college campus became serene once frivolousness gave way to philosophical discussions. High heels were replaced by Kolhapuri chappals, trendy tops went hiding at the arrival cotton salwar-kurtas and pop-music collections were replaced by gazals. Trendy joints became a thing of past and their absences were filled by wayside tea stalls.

Poetry oozed out when friends gathered. We did not care the scornful as well as curious looks of the people when we were sketching from the sidewalks of the busy roads. We were small rebels in the making and first of its expression was avoiding family functions; a first rebellion against the system. All this felt real because we were thinking ourselves as 'artists' and artists were supposed to be like that. But tricky were the youthful ways that whenever it was needed we did not show any qualm to claim those abandoned customs and habits back. That was the magic of being an artist. Shining colors showed us the flickering innocence, white was satisfying our youthful passions, pitch black stood for depression caused by nothingness and the occasional glances of dull hues heralded an impending maturity. Going back to bright colors made the circle complete expressing the need for energy and courage.

Years in Delhi taught me to deal with life. Two years in campus taught me to deal with conspiracies and strategies. Metro coaches and Delhi Transport Corporation buses gave me quick lessons in dealing with strangers. Days and nights were showing the trails on which my life as an independent artist was impatient to walk.

Delhi Roads in Night

DTC Buses over Delhi Roads

Complimenting my shift to Delhi came my posting in Andhra Pradesh, this time as a teacher. From a student to a teacher of many students, the shift was abrupt and unexpected. But things happen for good, an optimist in me says always. I had visited South earlier. Coconut fronds gave way the feeling of a green blanket. Sky was like scattered blue in the middle of predominant green. Night silhouetted the landscape like a ghost in flight. Rain came and went unannounced. I had some stereotypical images about South India and Andhra Pradesh confirmed them. However, I never experienced the grace and peace of nature before either in Rajasthan or in Delhi, as first one had dried open sky with parched roads and second was somber gray patched sky peeping through the craggy balconies.

Ambience of habitation influences the inner self, the way rain evokes music in you. A single blaring of a motor horn could shatter the glass wall of peace. The general pace of a city could infuse speed in your otherwise slow heels. Craving for future might make you lose your present. Ambitions can puncture the inner equilibrium. I have learned to live in peace by creating a balance between ambition and peace. 

Lotus Pond in Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh

A View from the way to Karimnagar for Hyderabad

Rainbow in an Evening Sky in Ramagundam, Andhra Pradesh

Looking back, I always ask this question; had it not been the shift to Delhi what could have come to my life? Petals of my inner soul then fold in gratitude before my parents for facilitating that crucial shift. Delhi gave me a reason to live and Andhra Pradesh, a vision. Yet, it is not the end. I would conclude this piece with a few lines from Robert Frost:

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Originally Published in Travel&Deal Magazine, Issue-04, Vol-I, October 2013

Soul Silence in an Old Mosque

Travelogue

Mecca Masjid is near Charminar, Hyderabad. One of the largest mosque in India, Mecca Masjid still retains the old world charm. Nisha Aggarwal hops into a bus from the NTPC Township only to come back with these memories. 

Charminar Road in Old Hyderabad

Being a former student of Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi which has been officially declared a Muslim university, I used to hear the Friday Namaz and daily praying in form of the airy voices impinging into the ears, as there is a Mosque in University premises. I was not familiar with such plaint sonic religious utterances before. Going to temple was a familiar ritual as I belonged to a Hindu household and it was considered to be a good habit. And I have followed it so many times since my childhood, visiting the local temples and also the known ones in Rajasthan, New Delhi, Uttar Pradesh and in South India during family tours and educational trips of college. But the kind of ‘Roohani’/spiritual solace mosques and tombs leaves upon the soul, I didn’t ever find in a temple.

Jostling devotees trying to find a glimpse of their beloved god, sounds of conch shells, bells and chanting mostly define a Hindu temple atmosphere. People visit religious places mainly for spiritual solace. One may feel a sense of fulfillment as they undertake a pilgrimage, tie sacred threads around trees or idols and then travel again to remove them or offer something more as a part of wish fulfillment. Visiting a mosque imparts a sense of ‘emptiness’ that leads to spiritual peace.

During my days in Jamia, I used to visit Jama Masjid in old Delhi with my friends. Those were the second mosque experiences I had. As I now live in Andhra Pradesh, I get to hear the namaz quite often from the mosques seen in various locations near and around the place of my stay, JyothiNagar in the National Thermal Power Corporation Township. Hyderabad is not far away from here. As there is a Bus via NTPC township to Hyderabad at 12.10 AM starting from NTPC Main Shopping complex which reaches to Hyderabad by early in morning. There is frequent bus service. There are many employees from NTPC, Godavari Khani coal mines, Ramagundam power station and nearby small industries those travel to Hyderabad on Saturday and Sunday nights. The route is well connected by train also. I too decided to travel to Hyderabad during this Eid celebration specially to see the ‘Mecca Masjid’, one of the oldest mosques in Hyderabad.

Mecca Masjid: A Front View

A Left Side View of Mecca Masjid

Mecca Masjid, also known as Makkah Masjid, is one of the largest mosques of India. It is located near Charminar, the central point of Hyderabad. Chowmahalla Palace and Laad Bazaar are the other places around. Mecca Masjid is a listed heritage building in the old city of Hyderabad. In order to protect the old structures, vehicular traffic has been barred from this area by a special order by the government in 2001. Mecca Masjid derives its name from Mecca, the holiest site of Islam, because Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah, the fifth ruler of the Qutb Shahi dynasty, commissioned bricks to be made from the soil imported from Mecca, and used them in the construction of the central arch of the mosque. One could say that the whole city moves around this centrally located mosque.

It is said that Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah, the fifth Qutb Shahi Sultan of Golconda (now Hyderabad) personally laid the foundation stone for mosque. The three arched facades have been carved from a single piece of granite, which took five years to quarry. More than 8,000 workers were employed to build the mosque, which was later completed by Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb in 1694 BC after conquering Hyderabad. The entrance courtyard of the mosque is a rectangular, arched and canopied building, which houses the marble graves of Asaf Jahi rulers. This structure came up during the rule of the Asaf Jah rulers. It contains the tombs of the Nizams and their family.

The Marble Graves of Asaf Juhi Rulers

The main structure of the mosque is sandwiched between two massive octagonal columns made out of a single piece of granite. The main hall of the mosque is 75 feet high, wide and long enough to accommodate 10,000 worshipers at a time. Fifteen arches support the roof of the main hall, five on each of the three sides. A wall rises on the fourth side to provide Mihrab. The octagonal columns have arched balconies on level with the roof of the mosque, above which the column continues upwards till it is crowned by a dome and spire. Inscriptions from the Quran adorn many of the arches and doors. The floral motifs and the friezes over the arches seem to have a close resemblance to the arches at Charminar and Golconda Fort.

One could see thriving local market at the entrance of the mosque. Pavement hawkers sell bangles, sweets, soft drinks, fruits and household items. The open quadrangle of the within the main mosque is filled with pigeons. Myths say that pigeons love silence and they like to live in graveyards, tombs and heritage sites. On the edge of the pond there are two stones and slab benches, and it is believed that whoever sits on them, returns to sit on them again. I did not sit on the slab benches though I want to come back here once again. But I don't want to go back to the places where religious superstitions are proliferated. However, I don't mind sitting there at the mosque in a serene night all alone and watching the crescent moon trying to listen to the secrets of spirits from the twin tombs.

The Crescent Moon Over The Tomb's Top

Originally Published in Travel&Deal Magazine, Issue-03, Vol-I, September 2013