India Thread

Artists would be working with excerpts from The Palace of Illusions, authored by the Indian author Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni.

Excerpts from “The Palace of illusion”

“Time is like a flower, Krishna said once. I didn’t understand. But later I visualized a lotus opening, the way the outer petals fall away to reveal the inner ones. An inner petal would never know the older, outer ones, even though it was shaped by them, and only the viewer the plucked the flower would see how each petal was connected to the others.

The petal of this afternoon opened like a red sigh. It was my time of month, which made me lethargic. Dressed in a light cotton that a trader had brought all the way from Bengal, I drowsed in the soft sunlight at my window, listening to the mynahs calling in the garden, feeling calmer than I had in a while. Yudhisthir had agreed (as a result of some sharp words exchanged in our bedroom last night) that it was time he ended his visit and returned to his own kingdom. He had promised to announce this to Duryodhan today. So finally I would be back in my own palace, where I could start working on forgetting the look of anger on a certain face.

I had no idea of the petal that had opened a few hours earlier in Duryodhan’s new hall, where the Kaurava prince, expressing his disappointment at the prospect of losing his dear cousin so soon, had challenged him to a last game of dice. Maybe this way I can recover a little of the money I’ve lost to you, eh? And in this game – connected to all those earlier petals, shriveled now, those games played in Indra Prastha, luring my husband in- Sakuni had taken Duryodhan’s place as Yudhisthir’s opponent. The petal unfurled, revealing the skill he’d hidden until now. Time after time he won until my husband – deaf to the entreaties of his brothers – lost his jewels, his weapons, and all his personal wealth. Then, goaded by Duryodhan, gripped by stubbornness, and intoxicated by the game, he began to wager things he had no right to jeopardize. And forfeited them all.”

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“A little of my anger faded. I remembered my girlhood sympathy for Karna’s unknown mother. When Kunti gave birth to Karna, she’d been young and afraid, with no one to confide in. Could I have done any better in her place? She’d made Karna suffer, yes, but hadn’t she suffered just as much? And now it was too late. If she told Yudhisthir about his elder brother, he would lose heart. The kind of man he was, he might even give up the war rather than commit fratricide. So instead, now she’d have to watch her sons kill each other, knowing that she’d brought it about. No wonder she’d tried to sacrifice me in a last effort to prevent such a calamity. 

I remembered how in my dream a weeping Karna had raised Kunti up and kissed her hands. If he could forgive her – he who had been the primary victim of her fear – shouldn’t I at least try?

I followed and found her lying facedown on her pallet. She’d been weeping. At my voice, she hastily wiped her eyes and glared at me.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

But for once, instead of bristling in annoyance, I heard the vulnerability beneath the pride. I told her I had a balm made of turmeric and shallaki, excellent for stiff joints. Would she like me to bring her some? She peered at me with suspicion, but finally she nodded, and so, for the first time I became her daughter-in-law – I did something for her that she hadn’t demanded. I rubbed her legs until she fell into a twitching sleep, and as her muscles relaxed against my fingertips, I found that by some inexplicable osmosis Kunti’s secret had become my secret. I too, would guard it now.

Perhaps the spell of the balm had put me in a trance, for as I moved my hands back and forth, I thought I saw hanging in the night sky a great web, its glinting threads woven from our present nature and our past actions. Karna was caught in it, as was I. Others were enmeshed there too: Kunti, my husbands, Bheeshma, even Duryodhan and Dussasan. If there was a way to escape the web, I couldn’t see it. Our puny struggles only entangled us further. A strange compassion came upon me as I watched us twist and turn in the breeze.

I tried to hold on to this compassion, sensing its preciousness, but even as I reached to grasp it, it dissipated into wisps. No revelation can endure unless it is bolstered by a calm, pure mind – and I’m afraid I didn’t possess that. “

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Sanajana Joshi- Nepal


Morass, Digital Sketch, Dimensions Variable, 2010.

The digital sketch entitled Muddle is inspired by the following text (an extract from the writings that was forwarded to us thru e mail... the writing is titled ..it was a summer afternoon) :

Are we rowing a boat still anchored in filth….?
Walking out of hell
Gave me the strength to be
Free….
Free…
As can be….
that’s just me!

 Morass, Digital Sketch, Dimensions Variable, 2010.




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Asma Mundrawala- Pakistan

The Petal of this Afternoon


Statement: Asma Mundrawala


Alluding to the reference of the unravelling of a lotus flower and the life it nurtures and regenerates, this image celebrates the cycle of life and the contradictions it holds. The collusion of contradistinctions fashions illusions where objects and living beings, intermeshed between their past and present, play multiple roles – sometimes in harmony and often in discordance.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Ayesha Jatoi- Pakistan
 
Five
 
Concept Note
 
 

 
What I found the most intriguing in the "the Palace of Illusions" was how Drupadi's relationships with her five husbands is fictionalized and in particular, the undertones that she was bitter that the kingdom was more precious to them than her. 'The Disrobing of Drupadi' always absorbed me as a student of miniature painting and I had worked with it several times in my studies. But I never knew the story behind the picture. Now I do... the 5 helpless men who were sitting on the side of the composition while Drupadi's honour is being attacked are meant to be the mighty Pandavas!
 
 
 

Five

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Ashmina Ranjit- Nepal

Concept note: India thread

“A little of my anger faded. I remembered my girlhood sympathy for Karna’s unknown mother. When Kunti gave birth to Karna, she’d been young and afraid, with no one to confide in. Could I have done any better in her place? She’d made Karna suffer, yes, but hadn’t she suffered just as much? (Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Palace of Illiusion’).

I missed my period. Pregnant? Since the age of twelve, I bled every 28 days. I was late by ten days… two weeks… almost two months weeks… and now… I am pregnant. Suddenly the reality of being grown up was not exciting at all. I felt trapped in web and could not free myself. No it is not the right time, I’m too young to have a baby. I felt stupid and life suddenly became ugly. I could not laugh and could not enjoy. My head could not bear the load of my brain. Vulnerable! Every thing seems upside down spinning at the rate of 360 degree per minutes. I tried things that could make me bleed. I preyed to bleed again and again… I felt the changes happening in my body every second … was I imagining? No I could sense a thing rooted inside me was growing inside me taking definite shape… my breast were heavier and slightly sore. My waist did not feel the way it felt normally. My legs… my tummy… my head… I hated my body. I hated myself… I was angry with myself… I wanted to change my life… the images of my dad… brother… my proud mother… my sisters … friends… my lover were flashing while I was driving away from the gynecologist… … …

My work is inspired by the life of Kunti – states of a mother’s mind -- her pride… her vulnerability… herself as a mother -- the reality created by the tiny baby alone… In my work I use the same concept of woman seen in Seema’ and anoli’s work and use the same idea of re-looking at the woman in the contemporary times with its ideas of liberation, technological advancement promising high modernization. Where do we stand in the promised land?

I will be creating the video installation. (work in progress).

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Brinda Miller - India

The Palace of Illusion 

My works will comprise 20 paper works and 3 canvases 3’x3’ each (triptych) titled The Palace of Illusions.

Seema Kohli and I have corroborated on this theme. My work, which is normally more abstract and modern, I have adapted to create an ‘old world’ format. Whereas Seema whose work is more traditional, has given it a contemporary twist. The theme is complex and deals with the many layers and matrices of the part women play in our society. The essence of the narrative is that the role she plays has not changed over the years. She was and is the stronger sex.

  











Elation

Karma

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Song

Transience

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Anoli Perera- Sri Lanka

Lace Menagerie

“If there was a way to escape the web, I couldn’t see it. Our puny struggles only entangled us further. A strange compassion came upon me as I watched us twist and turn in the breeze” -(Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Palace of Illiusion’).  

I see the little girl running about ..playing with her doll…A web has started its intricate weave.  Opening of the flower…the blooming....growing up …”Keep your knees together”…I was reminded.  In the center of the lace menagerie I proudly await with my needle in hand, and thread..lots of thread lying on my feet.  I am the weaver of my lace menagerie.

All have left …I still remain with my needle and thread! 

Note:  In my work I use the same centrality of woman seen in Seema’ work visually and use the same idea of re-looking at the woman in the contemporary times with its ideas of liberation, technological advancement promising high modernization.  Where do we stand in the promised land? 

 Also note that the following works are preliminary sketches.

  

Lace Menagerie I    (preliminary sketch)

 

Lace Menagerie II  (preliminary sketch)

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Seema Kohli-India  

                             

My works are inspired by the life and travails of Draupadi, in context to the contemporary milieu, captured explicitly in the book, The Palace of Illusions. The pages that unravel the story of a woman’s life, are manifest in my canvas, through various elements that are an intrinsic part of a woman’s life and thereby my work. The technological and scientific change have taken the global face to another level. Unfortunately, however, this change has not permeated into the human psyche, which is still primitive, tribal and traditional in its approach and perception. Family honour and filial pride still dominate the family landscape. That is why, I believe that ‘we are rowing a boat that is anchored in filth’. The victim becomes the predator and then the predator becomes the victim.

My presentation will comprise 20 paper works, 8 x 10 inches, 3 canvases of various dimensions, one painting, 17 x 72 inches, titled ‘Robing of Draupadi’ and a multi-media installation film (narrative )‘It was a Summer Afternoon’.