A second-hand sofa placed in the waiting room of an office holds memories of cuddles, fights, impromptu love-makings, is now a temporary home to people waiting for their cheques to be cleared.
A daughter’s first saree is always borrowed from her mother’s wardrobe. Hand washed, carefully tucked, perfectly pleated, brought to the right length. The grand entry into womanhood.
On the last day of school, when someone yells out “Please don’t write anything on my shirt”… “My younger brother will wear it” is silent.
The world of organ transplants runs on second-hands. Think about it, someone saying “I don’t want a used kidney, give me a brand new one”. Huh! Organs are always second-hand.
Why are second-hand books priced less? Does the knowledge decrease as it moves hands? The price depends on the looks. Whats inside comes second. Just like humans!
A leather purse passed on by a grandmother to her teenage grand-daughter can hold all the compliments, fantasies, awkward stares, & heartbreaks.
A second hand car comes with the smell of home-made parathas packed for a long drive, echoes of giggles, whispers of secret conversations and a half tank petrol. The car, ready for its next trip, with new passengers.
Second-hand things often bring with them first-hand joys. The joy of seeing your kid smile, the joy of seeing yourself in a new look, the joy of a few bucks saved, the joy of a second chance at life.
The fragrance of coconut oil teleports us back to summer afternoons, sitting on the stairs, while the wrinkled fingers of grandmother danced through our hair.
The aroma of chicken curry means a Sunday feast awaits, but first, helping dad repair the table fan.
The scent of sweat, from a lover’s body, slowly wrapping our soul in a tight hug can never fade away.
The smell of scented erasers brings back flashes of a childhood that will never make a comeback.
Smelly farts inside a packed train are the closest one can get to mass murder.
The scent of the incense sticks from a broken home is a permanent tenant in one’s mind.
The smell of gunpowder holds the memories of countless forgotten lives, just ask a soldier!
The heavenly scent of a perfume worn by an abuser will always invite nightmares for their victim.
Fragrances are experiences. Fragrances are memories. Fragrances are stories.
People are songs. Some are classics. Your parents like them. Your friends like them. Your irritating relative likes them. And of course, you like them.
Some, an emblem of a memory you want deleted from your brain.
Some are a recreation of an old classic, that has not been composed, but manufactured in a studio. Better to just see the video thumbnail and never click on them.
Some are hidden gems. They don’t pop up on your feed. You need to discover them. And the only way to do so is to go through some bad bad songs.
Some, you don’t understand at first. You dislike them. Don’t listen to them in years. And suddenly you listen to them and boom! You play them on loop.
And then there are guilty pleasures. Songs you listen to but are too shy to confess. Fearing of being crowned as “Uncool”, “Oh god…really” and the favourite, “Ewww”.
Some you leave out purposely. Thinking you will listen to them at some point in your life. Only to never listen.
And finally, comes that one song. That touches your soul, lifts up your spirits. Your companion on a rainy afternoon, your motivator on a depressing night.
Whatever song you are, may you find a place in someone’s playlist. And the playlist you have shall help you dance your way through life.
Railway stations have a cinematic universe of their own.
The steam from the freshly brewed teacup, coming out of the only tea stall open at 5:34 AM makes for the perfect setting to roll the opening credits.
A woman wearing the fragrance of her sweat, holding bags full of flowers suggests, in this universe, the working class is the protagonist.
The haunting silence in the eyes of a dog who was just abandoned by its owners, because he “got too much”, is the perfect calm before the storm.
Is there a bigger villain than delayed trains that brings with it late arrival mails & “it’ll be counted as a half-day” threats?
Forget love songs! An elderly couple sitting on a bench sharing a tiffin box makes you forget there is a world outside where people are dependent on algorithms to find themselves a life partner.
In an overcrowded train compartment, backbones are put to a test tougher than the UPSC. Cuss words are cream-pied on each other at the slightest of discomfort. What an action sequence! No VFX needed.
As stations arrive, compartments gradually start to empty, footsteps take the way out, hinting at a comeback. A sign there will be a sequel.
These are the super-heroes of this universe. The everyday hustlers. And their superpowers? Not giving up & showing up every day. Okay, let’s roll the end credits.
One of my fondest childhood memories is when I used to watch Shaktimaan every Sunday noon, with my uncle. I used to wait throughout the week for Sunday, and as soon as the clock struck 12 noon, I would rush to my uncles’ house and sit beside him and watch Shaktimaan together. We used to enjoy our homegrown superhero for one short hour. As soon as the show would end, my uncles’ wife and my mother would call us in union, to have lunch. All the years of watching Shaktimaan along with each other, we never had lunch together. As a Bengali household, chicken curry was reserved for Sunday lunches, it is a rule that can’t be messed with. As I relished my chicken curry I would think about the story of that day’s episode. The aroma of chicken curry on my palms had memories of numerous Shaktimaan episodes.
And then one day Shaktimaan didn’t turn up on television. My uncle told me, they have stopped the telecast of Shaktimaan and that we will never get to see our beloved superhero. And even before I could express my sadness my mother called me back home. I didn’t have the time to be sad, I had other things to do, like, growing up, going to tuitions, preparing for exams, building a career.
After all these years I realized, that day, Shaktimaan didn’t just end, my bond with my uncle did too. I couldn’t remember the last time I sat beside him. As a matter of fact we rarely met. I also realized, as a 63 year old man, he could have choose to watch anything on a Sunday afternoon. When I asked him why he choose to watch Shaktimaan every Sunday, he replied, ‘Because you wanted to’.
I realized, my Shaktimaan was not on the television screen performing stunts, my Shaktimaan was sitting right beside me, all these years.
If you are reading this, you must be locked inside your home, obviously for your own good. An unlikely situation when you have ample amount of time to spend, you should be spending this time in adding value to your life. We understand this is not the best time to watch television, but there was a time when Indian television was at the peak of its powers, and was producing ground breaking television serials. Here is a list of 5 Indian television series you should binge.
OFFICE OFFICE
This 2001 series portrays the rampant corruption and inefficiency present in various government offices. Mussadilal, a common man, brilliantly played by Pankay Kapoor, struggles to get his job done in these offices. The series stars a host of stalwarts like Sanjay Mishra, Manoj Pawa, Deven Bhojani, Hemant Pandey and Asawari Joshi.
BYOMKESH BAKSHI
Based on the characters created by Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay, the series follows a detective, sorry, a truth seeker and his assistant, solving mysterious cases. Directed & written for the screen by Basu Chatterjee, Rajit Kapur will succeed in convincing you that he is Byomkesh Bakshi, with K.K. Raina playing the perefect assistant Ajit.
ZABAAN SAMBHALKE
At the National Institute of Languages, Mohan Bharti is a Hindi teacher. His students come from different walks of life, and every class with them is a laugh riot. Every actor in the series has magical comic timing, with every dialogue written with such honesty and wit, that it creates its own genre beyond comedy.
MALGUDI DAYS
R.K.Narayan creates a world which talks about the people living in the town of Malgudi, and their everyday struggles. Directed by Shankar Nag and later by Kavitha Lankesh, the sheer brilliance of the series lies in its honesty and how it portrays humans in general.
WAGLE KI DUNIYA
It’s a crime the series lasted for just 2 seasons. Based on the characters created by cartoonist R.K.Laxman, the series talks about the everyday life of Mr. Wagle and his family. Directed by Kundan Shah, who directed the cult comedy Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, and later Kabhi Haa Kabhi Naa, one of the episodes stars Shah Rukh Khan. Many argue this was the first time Mr. Khan appeared in front of the camera.
We hope you enjoy watching these series, and that it adds value and joy to your life. Chances are high that you will get emotionally attached to these series, just remember we won’t get another season of these series.
Few days ago, I was surfing through Youtube, when I found a video where an artist talks about his work process and gives us a glimpse of his studio. One of the comments below the video read ‘He makes his assistants do all the work, he just sits there and does nothing, while his assistants create the artwork’. Upon digging further I found out that the artist had responded to the comment saying ‘My vision is my art, I come up with an idea, a vision, I then explain to my assistants what I want the vision to look like, and they produce that for me’. This forced me to introspect. What is real art? The Vision or The Execution? Who is the Real Artist? The Artist or The Assistants? And thus I dived head first into one of the most controversial debates of the art world.
Let’s consider filmmaking as an art form, where different artists from different mediums come together to create a piece of art. These artists include writer(s), cinematographer(s), director(s), costume designer(s), and many more. All of these artists have their individual assistants, they are the helping hands to the artist’s vision. These assistants with their unique skillset, helps the artist execute his/her vision and bring it to the real world. But there is a twist in the tale, these assistants get their artistic credit, when their name appears on the screen. That is not the case with assistants working in the art world.
The majority of the audience in the art world are unaware of the fact that artists rely heavily on their assistants for their work, let alone giving credit to these assistants. Recently artist David Hockney stirred controversy when he commented on the work of fellow artist/sculptor Damien Hirst, saying ‘Hirst relies heavily on his assistants for his work, and his individual artistic abilities are questionable’. When asked about his views on this statement, artist/sculptor Anish Kapoor said ‘David is a painter, he doesn’t need assistants, painting is a personal medium, whereas sculpting requires expertise to work with different materials, which the assistants provide’. This statement drives two conclusions, first, painting is a personal medium thus painters do not require assistants. Second, sculptors are required to work with different materials, and they don’t poses the expertise or ability to work with these materials, thus the help of assistants. To counter the first conclusion, Indian contemporary artist Subodh Gupta has assistants painting large scale canvases for him. He chooses the subject for his painting, takes a picture of the subject, printouts the picture, and hands the printouts to his assistants. Upon asking about his process he states ‘An architect designs buildings, but that does not mean he carries the bricks’. About the second conclusion, if a sculptor does not have the skill to work with a certain material, he hires an individual who is capable of working with certain materials, if that’s the case, why call them ‘assistants’, ‘collaborator’ is a much more meaningful and respectable job description for them.
Regardless of the fact that it’s not their vision, it is their skill that makes the art possible. Without their skill the art wouldn’t exist, it would just be an idea. From Michelangelo to Takashi Murakami to street artist Mr. Brainwash, every artist has rendered the help of assistants at some point in their career. How Murakami works is, he makes an original piece of work on canvas, then the same canvas is reproduced of different sizes, of course by the assistants. The original piece is sold at a much higher price than the reproduced ones. Silkscreens, posters, prints, merchandise, everything is on the shoulders of the assistants, as they work, Murakami looks on as a supervisor. Mr. Brainwash is honest to confess that he lacks any artistic ability, and he only comes up with ideas, and the rest is taken care by his assistants.
Vision and execution goes hand in hand, one cannot survive without the other. Execution is as important as the vision, if the execution falters no matter how good the vision, it won’t make an impact. If an artist sits on a chair and states that it’s the vision that matters and anyone can execute the vision, they need to get their artistic values checked. We are not completely discarding the job description of an assistant, an individual who does heavy lifting, like carrying artworks and canvases, printing artworks or cleaning the studio, they can be called an assistant, because their skills are not directly contributing to the art that is being produced. But for someone who is reproducing a large scale canvas, or working with a material that is essential for a sculptor, then that’s collaboration, because their skills are directly contributing to the art produced. The fact that people buying art do not know that the art they are buying is actually produced by someone else they don’t even know, and then there is an artist who acts like he has made that art is downright sickening. These artists are benefiting from the art produced by their assistants, and they don’t give these assistants the minimum of artistic credit, the last time we checked to find a word for this, it’s called cheating. They are cheating the assistants and most importantly the people buying from them. The only art they excel at is cheating people, we wonder what do we call them? Artists or Con men? Yes, there have been cases where an assistant has gone on to become an accomplished artist, but we are not talking about any particular individual, we are talking about the job description of an assistant. But the biggest question remains, Will these assistants ever get the artistic and financial credits they are actually worth? Is it ok to still call them ‘Assistants’?
Doodlekhor 