Here, you come across strange faces—disheartened, frustrated, agitated, excited, curious, energetic, and overly enthusiastic. You can observe them passing through countless emotions in the span of a brief conversation. They roam in pursuit of something invisible, a desire that has left them weak, frail, and seemingly helpless.
Some have managed to cover some distance, while others stand at a crossroads, where a large "Zero Mile" billboard is mounted on a tall post right in the center. They wonder which path will lead them to the right destination, the elusive destination that remains unknown.
Versova, a corner of Andheri West in Mumbai, is a place artist have chosen for themselves. Why do artists seem to be so drawn to corners? Or perhaps it's the people who live in solitude, in their own private worlds... the loneliest people always choose the corners.
Nestled by the sea, this place humbly embraces all who come here. Artists find homes according to their means (by means, I refer to both economic and social standing). Every day, these individuals emerge from their little boxes (and by boxes, I don’t mean they live in unsuitable or unworthy rented places), adorning themselves in the best they have, filled with a profound sense of self- confidence. They smile at familiar, inconspicuous faces, wandering through the narrow lanes of Aram Nagar for hours. Each one presents themselves according to their own formula, and after achieving their respective equations, they scatter across the streets of Yari Road.
Everyone has found their own spots, where they can take stock of what transpired outside the good offices of those narrow lanes. Some are seen at Zameela, with the last sips of their day’s tea and the final puffs of their cigarettes, or perhaps at Sakina or Nagori, or sitting on the hard stones by the seashore—watching the sun sink into the sea. They find themselves comparing their existence to a metaphor, reflecting on the image that just played out before their eyes, caught in the dilemma of aligning the waves crashing against the shore with the silence that echoes within them.
Gradually, darkness begins to embrace the entire space (though patches of artificial lights still remain, don’t they?). Time passes, and suddenly, a familiar sensation, one we've known for million years, begins to knock at the door of our consciousness—hunger. This feeling must have baffled one of our ancestors when it first struck, stirring a strange restlessness within. They might have frantically run around, confused. Many of our people must have lost their lives before we could understand hunger and discover its remedy.
And then they return to their little spaces, locking themselves in a sense of predictable security, until the same sun pierces the ocean’s horizon and rises once again. Then, they wander through the markets with silent, longing, yearning eyes... Here and there, gestures of dance are exchanged in place of thought.
Written By: Shatrughan Kumar
No comments:
Post a Comment