Facebook | Neeraj Bakshi: Art In The 21st Century: Future Perfect

Facebook Neeraj Bakshi: Art In The 21st Century: Future Perfect

1974

Fear crept in me and I woke up

ARCHIVAL DIGITAL PRINTS

'Naika &The Tree Trunk'-1, Archival print on paper 22x30in. Addition -1/10.

'Naika &The Tree Trunk'-2 Archival print on paper 22x30in. Addition -1/10 .

'Naika &The Tree Trunk'-3, Archival print on paper 22x30in. Addition -1/10

'Naika & The Tree Trunk'-4, Archival print on paper 22x30in. Addition -1/10.

'Naika & The Tree Trunk' -5    Archival print on paper    22x30in.  Addition -1/10.

Archival Digital Prints

'Naika & The Tree Trunk'

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-1  Gouache on Paper  22x 30 in.-2008.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-2 Gouache on Paper 22x 30 in.-2008.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-3 Gouache on Paper 22x 30 in.-2008.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-4 Gouache on Paper 22x 30 in.-2008.

WHILE RECOUPING

In Delhi, in this age of information technology, we begin to see through the words of others. We become Dhritrashters. We need Sanjays’ to see for us. We end up admiring Duryodhans. We stop using our eyes and our minds’ and our hearts’ responses. I realized this summer that any pretext, even illness, if it takes us away from Delhi for sometime, is a blessing. You begin to see again with your own eyes. You begin to feel again yourself.

Like last year, as soon as summer started, we, I and Gogi, fell ill. Delhi heat and pollution has become unbearable for us. We suffered from high temperature and congestion in the chest for fifteen days without any relief. Unfortunately, Dr. Kalyan Bannerji who had redeemed us from our suffering last year had gone to Germany. We have taken a resolve that we will depend on homeopathy for the remedy of our ailments. Dr. B. N. Srivastav, who lives in Dehradun, has on number of occasions brought relief to Gogi’s ailments. When, we could not, on our own, improve our condition, Gogi’s brother, Amal Pal, took us away to Paonta Sahib so that we could consult Dr. Srivastav in Dehradun. One week of his treatment, care in the house, the company of Angir and clean air of Paonta Sahib brought down our body temperature to normal and we started to recover.

‘While recouping, every morning, when the darkness of the night is about to leave and the light of the day is about to arrive, I wake up, go out of the house and sit near the mango grove corner of the garden which surrounds the house. The mango trees are laden with green unripe mangoes, each bursting with energy. Every morning I collect the mangoes fallen to the ground which could not encounter the strong wind during the night. I begin to recognise each mango and see its ripening process. There is a mango tree whose twisting tree trunk is like human torso in tri-bhang mudra. In the background of the mango grove there is a large field of eucalyptus trees. Each tree is about hundred feet high. These trees swing along with the birds sitting on them, when the wind pass through them. One day I saw a small bird’s first flight from his nest to the top of the eucalyptus tree along with the promptings of his parents. Outside the entrance gate of the house flows a canal and parallel to it runs the road. In the morning, first to walk on this road are children, in groups and singly, going to school. Some are in a hurry to reach school, some are dreaming and walking and some naughty ones carry a stone in their hands to hit the fruit laden trees to taste the unripe mangoes. Beyond the road is the orchard of lichi trees. Two parrots come there every morning ..... pluck ripe lichies, peel the skin of the fruit with their beaks, eat the fruit and throw the seeds on the ground in spite of the protests of the bald mali.

At about the same time, I wake up, sounds and songs of the birds start. After some days, I started recognising the birds by their voice. A squirrel comes down from the tree on one side of the gate followed by her children , jump on the ledge of the gate. All of them, except one, cross the gate in a line, jump on the fruit tree on the other end of the gate and vanish in it. The naughty one comes down and jumps on the ground, looks around and then runs to join the family. Seeds of eaten fruits start falling on the ground at irregular intervals from the tree in which the family of squirrels has vanished. The dove descends on the gate and after arranging her feathers flies away. A snail has started crossing the courtyard leaving behind a sticky trail. It will take him half an hour to cross the courtyard. Pink lilies shed their petals three days ago, the seed pods are now prominently visible. Yellow lilies are open today. White lilies will open tomorrow with all its spikes and frills. First rays of the sun fall on two butterflies painted by an abstract artist hovering over two mangoes.

It is summer. The monsoon is expected any day, because sometimes you see a small cloud in the morning sky separated from its mother monsoon cloud. This is romance season of the birds. They are choosing partners. They are selecting places for their nests. They are building their nests. Both the partners bring twigs and leaves to build the nests. They are architects by instinct.

Away from Delhi when I expressed in my creative visual imagery, all the eye’s & heart’s intakes entered my creativity.

I also wrote my first short story for the children sitting there while recouping.

‘Naika & the Tree Trunk’

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-1 Drawing on Paper -2004.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-2 Drawing on Paper -2004.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-3 Drawing on Paper -2004.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-4 Drawing on Paper -2004.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-5, Drawing on Paper -2004.

'Naika & Tree Trunk'-6,Drawing on Paper -2004.

Last year, as soon as the summer started, I fell ill. I shifted to Jiji’s house in Paonta Sahib for recouping because the climate is not polluted there, Himalayan mountains start from there, Yamuna enters the plains there & Guru Gobind Singh lived there.


‘While recouping, every morning, when the darkness of the night was about to leave and the light of the day was about to arrive, I woke up, went out of the house and sat near the mango grove corner of the garden which surrounds the house. The mango trees were laden with green unripe mangoes, each bursting with energy. I began to recognise & observe each mango tree, every mango and its ripening process. There was a mango tree with twisting tree trunk which looked like a human torso.


Without my being aware this tree trunk entered in the expression of my creativity, both in ‘drawing’ & in ‘painting’. The tree trunk began to acquire & change its personality according to the needs of my creativity.


A mango tree, I saw, was a world in itself- a coexistant world. I began to recognise every bird and his voice who visited the mango tree to look for a ripe mango, for rest, to avoid summer heat, to voice his presence to attract a partner, for romance, in search of a safe place to make a nest, lay eggs and rear the children..... all these nuances began to enter my thoughts & my creativity.

Living in the environment of a cosmopolitan city, our eyes, our minds’ and our hearts’ responses become blured, insensative, selfish & selective. We stop seeing small things & happenings in our lives. In Paonta Sahib I began to see again...... even small living being living their lives on their own terms..... ants carrying a dead earth worm on the mango tree trunk, a snail crossing the courtyard, a ‘kambalkira’ holding a mango with his hundred legs.

Away from Delhi when I expressed in my creative visual imagery, all the eye’s & heart’s intakes entered my creativity..... ‘Naika & the Tree Trunk’. The tree trunk has become as human as the Naika.... it has grown feet & evolved gestures.


VED NAYAR

'Hard Edge '-1972-76

Solo Show of Hard Edge works at Kumar Art Gallery in 1976.

Participated with Hard Edge works in 2nd Triennale India when Dhan Raj Bhagat, India's most creative sculpture was the curator....Ved Nayar

WATER

Let us avoid 3rd world war on water

WATER – Let us avoid the possibility of 3rd World war on Water

I am concerned about Man’s behavior with WATER. I am concerned about Man’s misuse of plastic. I am concerned about Man’s inaction about GLOBAL WARMING. I am concerned about Man spreading pollution. I am concerned about Man wasting Planet’s natural resources. I am concerned about Man’s continued destruction of TREE. I am concerned about Man’s cruelty on BIRDS & ANIMALS. I am concerned about our PLANET. I am concerned about our UNIVERSE. I am concerned about MAN. I am concerned about Man’s inhuman behavior with Man. I am concerned about Man’s aggression on Man.

I am afraid the MAN WILL DESTROY OUR PLANET. The MAN will make it UNLIVEABLE.

Third World War on Water has already started in our homes, in our apartment buildings, in our villages, in our towns, in our countries and after some time, it will start on our planet.

Let me tell you a tale of water war in my apartment. This exposes an aspect of human nature/ behavior which will start the 3rd world war on WATER.

For last two years neighbors lived in peace in our apartment building in an environment of equality, mutual respect and consideration for each other, allowing all their time for their family and for their professional and creative pursuits.

Three months ago, a lawyer moved in our apartment on the top floor with a roof attached to it. He is connected with supreme court of our country, the top of our justice pyramid, where norms of justice get established. He grew up in the environment of the rule of law establishing institution, police. He is in the strata of society amidst the environment where law and justice bends to accommodate their desires & actions. He is aware of it and you can feel it in his behavior. He is very status conscious. I used to communicate with him through his driver. Sometime ago, I was told not to talk to his driver. These days, my communication channel is through letters, sent through courier. He started getting his roof washed twice a day and the entrance of our apartment building washed everyday to hide his requirement of washing his roof twice a day.. Washing is easier than wiping to clean the floor for the sweeper. Any sweeper will become an ally of such benefactors.

Monsoon rains failed to come on time in our country, this year. The State government requested and issued instructions that the citizens should avoid wasteful use of water. Those found wasting water will be panelized and their water supply will be disconnected. I am living on the ground floor. I started requesting the sweeper, every day, not to wash the entrance of the apartment building. Instead of stopping to wash the floor, one day he abused me. I had appointed this sweeper. He was always respectful. I guessed the reason of his changed behavior. I asked the sweeper to apologize for his behavior and told him that I will delay releasing his wages till he stops washing the entrance and apologizes for his misbehavior. After some days, the lawyer came along with the sweeper and entered my house shouting and ordered me to release the sweeper’s wages…..when he entered my house, I was bedridden because of my heart problem, my wife was recouping from hip joint operation and my wife’s sister was recouping from cancer operation. My guess as to who prompted sweeper to misbehave was established.

After some days, the sweeper realized his mistake and came along with his whole family to apologize and promised that they will not misbehave & won’t waste water in future.

Even after so many requests, to bring back an environment of equality, mutual respect for each other amongst neighbors in B-180, our society’s elite, the lawyer has not realized his misbehavior mistake and has not felt the urge to say sorry to three ailing senior citizens for his shouting entrance in our apartment along with the sweeper. The reason for aggression is that I asked the sweeper not to waste WATER.

Our elite are sure & confident that no authority dare to question their wasting water or any other similar disobeying of rules & regulations. The rules and regulations are for weaker sections of Society to obey. Anybody, pointing these rules & regulations to them is silenced by the elite with aggression or with provoked or sponsored aggression.

After this incident, I started fearing the possibility of such a person emerging as a leader on the world stage. Such people attract many weak conviction neighbors initially. The result will be 3rd world war on water.

If the lawyer elite realizes that there is no harm in saving the water & repents for his aggression, I will inform you. All of us will rejoice. The day this happens, I will begin to believe that there might not be a 3rd world war on WATER.

Theft, rape, dowry, property, murder, land grabbing, money, cheating, aggression, rioting, religion, society etc. are, mostly, the areas around which our justice system & the law enforcement system revolve. The areas like wastage of water, spread of pollution, adding to global warming, wastage of our planet’s natural resources or other such areas which will make our planet unlivable for Man or make Man extinct on our planet have not yet come under the active preview of our justice system & the law enforcement system. Our system of governance, democracy, acts but acts in a slow motion. Let us not get late. Let us change the ‘don’t care’ mental set up of our elite how sit on our justice thrones.

If the MAN will DESTROY OUR PLANET & make it UNLIVEABLE.

Will MAN be able to find another planet in the universe similar to Earth to migrate?
Will MAN be able to alter that planet to make it suitable for our living?
Will MAN be able to alter himself and his co-habitats to make them suitable for living in the found planet?

These are questions, difficult to answer.

Let us change our elites.

Let us save our Planet.

VED NAYAR

ROARING PLASTIC TIGER

Let us avoid covering our planet with plastic. Plastic Tiger will eat us.

Ved Nayar

THE LAST AGGRESSION

‘One day we encountered a stone wall.

We could not jump over it - we could not circumvent it - we could not comprehend it - we could not evoke an emotion in it
We could not write on it - we could not break it.
We could not gather public opinion against it, as is required by the' System'.

The wall is without a shadow.

Some people come after hiding the features on their faces - they throw stones at the wall during the day, they go inside the wall at night & walk away, garlanded in the darkness of the night.

The fear whispers that a collective masked face of a group of aggressors,
command this 'Wall' - from inside the wall - from above the wall - from below the wall.

Even if, one day, the collective masked face will preside, over the last submission to aggression –

We will go on hovering in circle over the wall, to implant our moving shadow on the 'Wall', to register a protest - to stamp freedom - to keep alive, hope in despair –
before flying into the Sun’.

Murder in the service of Man

It was dark summer night. The air was still and he heat was suspended in the air.
A man appeared from the darkness and approached a row of 50 trees.
He took out a brush, dipped it in the bucket of paint and marked a big cross on the trunk of a tree. He repeated this act 50 times till every tree in the row was marked for death by axing. The row of trees had come in the way of the progress of man.

The marked trees squeezed within, turned pale and there was a shudder and a cry. Some leaves fell in anguish. The man did not hear anything and did not see anything. His job accomplished, the man sat down, resting his back on the trunk of a marked tree and lit a cigarette. Between drags of smoke and drowsiness he mumbled curses against the summer heat, his job and growing poverty.

After the initial shock, the trees voiced discontent at the unending ill-treatment meted out to them by Man and conspired amongst themselves whether they should realiate by shedding all the leaves to deprive the Man of the shade from the scorching summer Sun and letting a heavy branch fall on this man’s head.
The thoughts were shunned, retaliation being a man’s trait.
But the silent agitation continued and all the trees joined in.
The trees decided to leave the Man and the intensity of the compulsion to leave
Man reached such a pitch that feet grew to the trees.

The trees started walking to leave the Man.
The jerk of their step woke up the man, who was leaning against the tree.
Fear ran though his body, for what he saw he could not believe.
He ran into the darkness shouting-----the trees have grown feet.
Some heard his shouts in the sleep----but could not believe it----and continued sleeping.
Morning edition of newspapers did not carry the news because the information reached them late. When the Man woke up in the morning, most of them realized only then,
the absence of trees amongst them.
Though the administration for progress of Man felt relieved of the problem,
They still fabricated and brought out all the defects of the trees in a note,
Proposing dire consequences to the criminals who escaped axing. Finance, too, joined
the administration to make their note convincing by exaggerating the expenditure on growing and maintaining trees.
They even suggested that in their stead, plastic trees should be erected for its obvious advantages.
Custodians of law were sent in all direction but the file could not be closed till the trees were caught and punishment administered. The administration again proposed with further justifications, the words tree and green to be deleted from the vocabulary of Man.
The solution was found implemented and the file was closed.
Man perished thereafter and the earth disintegrated soon after.

Sparkle of Light
“I am content choosing to walk, all alone in darkness, locating, building and carving my own path to walk on, towards the universe (Brahmand) of a floating volume of intense darkness hiding sparkles of light.

Sometimes, a sparkle of light comes out of the universe (Brahmand) of floating darkness, engulfs me and then leaves me rejuvenated, to continue, locating, building and carving my path, to walk on it, in the darkness towards the universe (Brahamand) of floating volume of intense blackness hiding sparkles of light”

Ved Nayar

Touch Stones

Yamuna, one of the holy rivers of India, enters plains from Himalayan mountains at Paonta Sahib.

Soon after the monsoon rains, while walking on the bank of the river, I discovered a stones- beach rising from the deep, cool flowing waters of the river, reflecting the changing colour of the sky. As the sun rose in the horizon, the first golden yellow rays fell on each of the millions of stones on the beach, defining the shape, size, volume, colour and the shadow of each stone. The play of sunlight revealed each stone’s contours and its identity also. The stones varied in size from as small as a sand particle to as big as me. Perhaps every stone is as old as our planet. Each carries energy, knowledge and secrets of our planet, of our universe. Sitting by the side of the water, they are linked with my inheritance and cultural identity. By the force of an intuitive compulsion, I started picking the stones that tingled my creative and visual instincts, some because of the shape, some for the colour, some for the texture and some, I do not why. Some had their fate lines carved on them. Some were cruelly treated by the river and some with tender care. Some had other stones embedded in them for a life long bond. The lines, the dents, the holes in the stones tell the story of the river’s journey. I placed one stone on a large stone lying around, then another on it. I continued placing them till the pillar (stambh) of selected stones balanced one on another. The pillar changed the personality of the stones- beach, of its surrounding universe, visibly and spiritually. And the change had an effect on me. It gave me comprehension of my total being- my past, my present and my future. I became alive and one of them in the land of Touch Stones. I made another pillar (stambh) in the vicinity, then another. I went on selecting stones and making pillars till the sun went down behind the hills. I became a medium for each selection. Each selected stone, I realised, had the capacity to change the world around me. I did not feel, I have changed the world. I felt the stones changed my world. The experience was sublime, one of participation in creation. I named my installation, Touch Stones after Rabindranath Tagore’s short story ‘ Parosh Moni’ I arrived at the ‘Touch Stones’ beach next day morning just before the sun rise and captured the experience in every changing light of the Sun in my camera, to share with others. I worked on selected images on my computer to add my creativity to the images.

Ved Nayar

Touch Stones-2, 2008