Enquiry into the sectarian affiliation of Harwan

This paper seeks to address questions of representation and interpretation of the monuments unearthed at Harwan, Kashmir. These days, strenuous efforts are being made to project Harwan as an unproblematic Buddhist site and promote it as a destination for cultural tourism by linking it with the great Central Asian tradition. In this effort, scholars have deliberately underplayed facts and attributed all monuments found in the area to Buddhists, ignoring any other cultic possibility.

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Toying with my computer

Jesus in Kashmir: A book review

Jesus in Kashmir The lost tomb by Suzanne Olsson is an eclectic mix of science fiction , hypothetical racial claims and a good number of fantastic speculations and possibilities. The entire work is focused at justifying the legitimate claim of Jesus on the throne of Kashmir and his having been buried in a tomb named ‘Roza Bal’ in Kashmir.What seems to have instigated the author in writing the book is the so called deliberate proclamation of the site as an Islamic one and the misuse of the money donated to the shrine by Islamic fundamentalists.

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My brush with sublime

While making last minute notes for my class on Kant and his insights on sublime and beautiful I lingered much longer than required on the former concept.It brought alive some pleasant memories of bygone days. To be precise I was reminded of our study tour to western Indian rock caves and particularly the journey to Nane Ghat situated in Western ghats. It was raining cats and dogs that day with hardly any visibility .Road was extremely narrow and I thought the scene was right for shooting a thriller movie.


I remember leaving my seat to sit on one of those red satin mattresses put on the front of bus where seats had been removed.As I looked out of the window the road was nowhere in sight..it almost seemed as if the bus was gliding on the valley.For a moment my heart stopped beating ..it was scary but probably it was more than that…because after a short time the fear was replaced by the sense of awe and respect for nature. The breathtakingly beautiful lush green mountains and gurgling sounds made by the river down in the valley had a wonderful impact on me.

While I was undergoing these unexplainable emotions which I am trying to weave in words I saw another bus coming from the opposite side. Suddenly I was curious to see how our driver would negotiate the problem.After what seemed like an eternity our bus driver reversed the vehicle and adjusted it so that one of its rear wheels was no longer on the road but was hanging in the air. Getting enough space the other bus moved ahead but I will never be able to forget the experience of hanging in mid air…It was fear mixed with extreme devotion…it made me feel so small…I was almost in a trance but I do clearly remember my thoughts which ran as……………

god I would have no regrets if I were to fall and die in this valley

Not that I have any suicidal tendencies but nature in its wildest form does have a maddening impact on people…it can make you cry, laugh, feel extremely insignificant or as I experienced ,happy to die it its lap….probably this is what Kant meant by a sublime experience………..

A trip to Kayavarohana

Last night before going off to sleep I hoped and prayed with all my heart for heavens not to pour the next day.After canceling and postponing for what seems like an eternity I had finally decided to go to Kayavarohan (Karvan) for my first documention trip and noway did I want the plan to get cancelled again. My prayers had been generously answered, there was no rain and on top of that it was a bright and beautiful day. Had an early breakfast and left for the station armed with my camera and notebooks. After a half an hour wait I managed to get into a bus which would directly take me to Kayavarohan once inside I got talking to the elderly couple who were waiting with me. Interestingly the husband knew quite some about the temple and was extremely glad that someone was working on the particular site. They had to get off the bus before me and we parted with a cheerful ‘aavjo’ and his words ‘you are doing a good job...

Since I was visiting the site for the first time I was anxious not to miss the stop. The old woman sitting next to me who must have been in her eighties finally asked me where I was going. Interestingly she would pull my arm whenever I was about to get up to ask the conductor…still remember her kind and assuring face…’haji vaar che…hu tamne kahish’ I had no choice but to sit with an disarming smile. She kept her word …just few seconds before reaching the temple she told me to stand in front otherwise it would be difficult to get out of the crowded bus.

Contrary to what I had expected I came across a well maintained temple gate flanked with all kinds of shops. Inside to my utter surprise there was standing a late temple structure with amazingly well maintained lawns and fountain. Didn’t look like a site at all. The temple has been construced in 1971 but the idol inside is ancient and the iconography of the temple is what I was interested in. I took a general round and to my chagrin saw a ‘no photography’ board. After the usual darshan I realized that there were all kinds of yogic postures displayed on the walls along with various mantras and mahatmayas. The walls of both garbhagriha and mandapa were completely covered with writings…shivmahimnastotram, rudrashtakam etc. haven’t come across any temple like this before…dpwnstairs I was amazed to find whole pasupata sutra written on the walls…clear in red ink…it was a shame that I couldn’t click photographs. I decided to try my luck and went to the main office. Fortunately enough I was able to meet the trustee who was pretty helpful and guess what not only did he let me click the photographs, but he also asked one of the volunteers to go with me. He also supplied me generously with some extremely useful literature about the history of the temple.Generosity didn’t end there he asked me to have lunch at the campus itself once my work was over. I told him I wanted to see the other temples in the village too and he gave me a long list. After clicking all the desired photographs I thanked him profusely and made some notes.

Once outside I started inquiring about the archeological museum displaying all the rare finds from the site. After walking for some 15 minutes I reached to an isolated rather dull loking building which a panwala confirmed was the museum.Though there was a man standing there I could see the heavy lock on the gote…I inquired bhai museum aaje bandh che?

Na behn, koi aavtu nathi aetle lock marya che…tame jovo to kholoon

He did open the gate with reluctance and right in the outset told me not to click any photographs. The collection was beautiful though most of it was broken. I particularly liked a little less than lifesize sculpture of kala bairava. The ematiated form and the violent posture lend an eerie feeling to the image.

I was pretty tired and could do with some icecream and also thought of asking the locals for some information about the temples. The shopkeeper lady told me that bhagwan rajarajesvar temple was deep inside the village and there was the other sivalinga I was looking for.Actually the broken temple I was looking for had been renovated hence no one could tell me where the broken temple is. So I took her leave and set afoot again. Meanwhile I kept asking people for the direction and knowing my wonderful sense of direction was mentally making a note of landmarks. I passed through various lanes bylanes darwazas to reach my destination. The temple has been renovated so there is nothong interesting about the structure but I did find the sivalinga I was looking for.After clicking photographs I talked to the caretaker madhuben and her grandson. On my way back I clicked some photographs of the village and reached the village bus stop.I was told I had just missed a bus to baroda and the next would take some time to come. I took a minibus more like a chakda to por, the nearest town from where I was told I will easily get a bus to baroda. Once in the bus I started reading the literature that I had got in the temple. Got so engrossed in reading that realize when we reached baroda.

As soon as I got down the bus I rushed to the hostel and after having a ‘solid naashta’ crashed onmy bed.

An open letter to Niyeti

Dear Niyeti,

Since a long time your drawings are saved in my computer. Whenever I open ‘My pictures’ the folder containing them stares at my face and forces me to open it. I click on it and there it reveals an array of drawings talking about your exciting artistic journey which I have been following closely.

I have been wanting to write about them but ironically the things I want to do the most are the ones that give me maximum starting trouble I kept waiting for the right time…does the right time really come? Who knows? Probably it does …that’s why I am writing…getting too cynical I guess…chal let me come to the point..

First time I saw these drawings I recalled your early BFA works…your silent yet firm effort to gradually do away with the conventional form and still express your deepest feelings….your effort to reduce everything to lines and planes….everything rolled in front of my eyes like a motion picture. I was reminded of our loooong discussions, our aspirations and not to forget the crazy 10 O clock syndrome…because its every tiny moment which we live to the fullest that makes us what we are..

I often marveled at your ability to be different…to go for absolutely abstract works in a place like Baroda which is known for its figurative narrative trend. The painstaking method, the absolute faith and trust and last but not the least the love and passion you have for your works make them very special for me.

I think these latest drawings are a genuine example of learning unlearning and in the process learning something totally unconventional….Was I glad to see forms in your works…not that forms are essential but because I had anticipated that one fine day you will come up with a language of your own…and here I can see the elementary alphabets..

Now you are ready to speak…speak your heart out. What is the most exciting part is that you have arrived here after a long journey through difficult paths…an outstanding one…and had to face severe criticism from various quarters…But unmoved by all this you steered ahead and definitely have made a mark for yourself. You still have a long long way to go…

Wishing you all the luck and success

Love
Geetika

Destined Fate

Few days back while sifting through my books i spotted a yellowish looking paper with very small print on it. On a closer look I realized it was a short story i had written back in year 2003. Rather it had been a product of a very boring and uneventful day at office. I had really liked it then and shared it only with some close friends.But as it is usual of me I lost the only print-out i had taken of the story and soon forgot all about it.I somehow never tried my hand at story writing again. In these days of retrospection its great to have found that story...





Here is finally the 'Destined Fate'



And after the long wait finally the time came for executing her duty once again. It was usually a simple task but the old woman clung to those few breaths with all her might, making it terribly difficult for D this time. D had always been proud of her capacities and seeing them thus challenged by a frail dying old woman made her furious. Sometime back the old woman had pushed her out and she had no choice but to succumb to the act. In hearts of their hearts both knew D was invincible but that knowledge did not deter the latter’s resistance.

D decided to let the old woman have her way for sometime. Maybe that would make her realize the inevitable destiny. Thinking thus, out she flew through the window and began witnessing the scenes of daily life. Aimlessly floating and contemplating D came to an open window which revealed a very cozy and lively room. Peeping inside the window D caught sight of a beautiful young girl lying on a sofa…probably deep asleep…The girl M was absolutely still, like death itself…how peacefully she slept. D looked at her for some time but there was no movement in M’s body. Suddenly D got a wicked idea. She quietly glided in the room and spread her frozen limbs in M’s youthful body, thus turning her into cold marble.D knew very well it was an offence for which she would surely be punished but the temptation of doing the unexpected was too much o resist. M was as motionless as before…but there was a drastic difference now….Now she was dead. Lying still as a statue she had invited death to reside in her.

After some time another young girl K barged in the room. Sitting on the edge of the sofa next to M she began chatting. Getting no response she touched M on her forehead and instantly a chill ran down her spine. Taking courage she tried in vain to locate latter’s pulse and heart beat. The sudden shock of her friend’s untimely death brought a terrible shriek from her and she began to cry hysterically.

All this hue and cry woke D up who had gone off to sleep in M’s body. As soon as D saw K she realized her mistake and was scared to see a friend weeping and wailing over what had not been ordained…what was just a whim…what was not true…M has a long life ahead. D had to leave before it was too late. Noiselessly she escaped M’s body and flew out of the open window.

Suddenly there was a movement in M’s body ..as if she was getting up from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes and saw a white faced and terribly shaken K. She put her hands on K's shoulder and tried taking her hand but the latter had already run out of the room…out of the house...out on the road. Running frantically with fear written all over her face K could hardly see a pick-up van which ran over her ending all her fears and worries forever;

On the other side D had won the battle. The old woman had finally given up. The ultimate look of defeat and surrender on her victim’s face elated D. She calmly resided in latter’s body. After her much awaited victory D had to immediately reach the road T for her next assignment. As D reached the place she saw K running madly on the middle of the road. It was not with a triumphant smile but a very heavy heart that D spread her limbs in K as the pick-up van crushed the latter’s body.

Art at last!

Ironically during six years of college I never thought of practicing art seriously.Theory and philosophy had completely occupied me and I found myself constantly battling the flying time…to read more…to grasp more …. to actually internalize more…In this mad rush to “understand” where was the time for indulging in art itself?

While I was busy reading about radical art moments, revolutionary art theories and beauty of Indian temple architecture the practical aspect took completely a back seat. I visualized myself as someone behind the scenes…someone interpreting and deciphering a certain code….someone trying to penetrate in the artists mind. This seemingly passive role that I saw myself in, unknowingly never allowed me to artistically express myself.

Last few months of teaching expierence in College of Art and especially the glass painting workshop that I participated in made me realize what I was missing in life. Moreover discussing with students about their works and ideas which propel them ahead I started craving for producing art myself.After a long gap of sixteen years I touched my oil paints and brush not quite without hesitation. I bought the smallest canvas and started to paint a landscape…..and there started the journey which I hope never ends….