THIS IS TO EAT ( i offered kashmiri bread to the audience ) THIS IS TO SEE ( I Showed the audience my camera with an image of sky and barbed wire ). THIS IS READ ( I directed the audience to read the text pasted on a kashmiri handicraft on the wall )I did this performance piece in a
GROUP SHOW CURATED BY ALLANA HUNT AT ARTS AND AESTHETICS DEPARTMENT JNU NEW DELHI, TITLED some one draws a flower on the wall besides a bed.
INTENTIONS
1.
Only yesterday I arrived from Bijbehara/Vejbour, KASHMIR. The moisture less bread layered with opium seeds ( Kulcha/Nani-Koshik), which I am offering you right now, is made by my next door neighbour’s nephew Bilal Ahmed Wagey. He is a Bachelor of Fine Arts from The Institute of Music and Fine Arts Srinagar, Kashmir
Couple of days back, I was delighted to meet him in his small bakery production unit where he was busy making all the kinds of Kashmiri popular breads, which includes latest bread in fish form. Ah, I too was thinking of doing some (conceptual ) bread with text ‘IN PRISON’ planted on the bread itself before it faces the oven fire. He agreed, and next day when I met him to collect the particular bread, I saw him taking care of his few days old baby-chickens in his lawn. There is always a danger that CCTV eyed Eagles might lift any one of them at any time. I knew this fact, but when his always blessing grand mother told me, I thought how often ‘the innocence’ is compelled to negotiate ‘the cruel’ which looks natural/inevitable in the long run.
Bilal offered me the traditional Pink salt tea ( Nun-Chai/Sheer-Chai) with his bakery and simultaneously showed me the particular bread which I demanded. The word IN PRISON on 35 Kulchas, was not so visible, so I told him to push it to some more perfection. I opened my camera to photograph one for record, but there was no battery.
Since I had to return back to Delhi next day, I requested Bilal to complete the job so that I can carry the box from his father’s shop on the Highway. He agreed and I left.
And when the Bus to Jammu reached Bijbehara Stop next morning, I requested the Driver to stop for a minute to collect the box containing my desired bread. I ran to the shop and gave his father some money, which he refused, but I insisted and succeeded in giving him the money. Bilal’s father Mr. Qadir was busy on his mobile phone and pointed his finger to one of the boxes amongst other boxes, which I lifted and rushed to catch my Bus waiting for me on the high way.
Lo and behold, the box is not containing the desired bread, but some simple Kulcha which I am offering you now.
Initially, Bilal wanted to join me today ( 4th of August ) here at JNU, but his mother wanted him to stay a little more, which he could not refuse.
2.
Recently, I happened to travel to Bundu district of Ranchi, Jharkhand. The entire Tribal region is politically charged. The landless and poor Tribals are in a rebellious mood. The Government has so far out rightly dismissed their ways of protesting as ‘ Terrorism’. I photographed a lot through the window of my friend’s car.
One of Slogans written on the houses is LAND, FOREST AND WATER BELONGS TO US. Rarely one could see the famous beautiful Tribal motifs which they are known to paint their walls with. The absence of that centuries old pattern of life is rapidly replaced by modern gadgetry like Mobiles and Dish TV Antenna without access to health, water, schools and other basic amenities. There is a silence and anger written on the faces of people who directly stare in the eyes of a stranger.
On the last day of my visit to Ranchi, i was invited by a Shanti Niketan Trained artist to see his curated show ‘Kara Mein Kala’ ( Art in the Prison ). The show contained art works done by the Prisoners only, and on entering the space one could easily see the presence of police personnel more than the civil audience, so the ambience was somehow prison like.
While moving around, I was struck by a water colour. It was the Brisa Munda Prison itself. A typical PANOPTICON on paper. It just happened that while travelling to Ranchi I was reading Michel Foucault. Discipline & Punish (1975), Panopticism . And I quote one of the lines from that essay “Is it surprising that prisons resemble factories, schools, barracks, hospitals, which all resemble prisons ?”
Anyhow; I asked for the price, It was just Rs.1200/- and I instantly purchased it with this intention that I would exhibit it along with other photographs of this Region. But, some how I have not been able to decide which images shall accompany this water colour by Kartik Prasad. This is first time ever I purchased an art work in my life.
There were other paintings by this artists in the exhibition, but this one instantly suited my idea of the situation we all are in. This self taught Artist Kartik Prasad, is charged with Murder and said to me that he has been framed. He teaches Art to his other inmates in the Prison and loves the landscape of his region.
I wish freedom for him, sooner
I feel both Bilal Ahmed Wagey and Kartik Prasad are next to me while I am distributing this small Kashmiri bread, today
I feel sometimes, simple bread manages to speak about us what all the words fail to convey.
Inder Salim
Delhi 4/8/09
WATER COLOUR BY ARTIST DEEPAK PRASAD, ACCUSED IN A MURDER CASE
