LIFE STUDY - COLLEGE OF ART - DELHI

This section is the documentation of the "Study Work" done by students of third year, Applied Art of College of Art, New Delhi in the year 2009. All works done on paper. The display was done in the corridor area of the college. I was the Lecturer for this particular study session at that time. Tried to make it more experimental and out of the box session in art for these students. There was no boundation with the material or the technique used. The performance of each student was stupendous. One hell of a great class.

During the entire three week of study session with all the three sections of second year Applied Art, I was totally thrilled to see the enthusiasm and the eagerness of all the students to learn new approach towards the subject matter. I didn't have to push them much harder. Just guided them to make things in a new and better way. They played with the space and the material to their utmost ability.

  

THE DRIFTWOOD SONG

THE DRIFTWOOD, pen and ink on paper, 2016.

Living under the shadow of pale flickering light of uncertainty is troublesome for me. Somehow can’t accept the life of a loser. Tried to hide behind the make-believe world of mine, alas it all fallen apart like a pack of cards. What a blast of joy occurred amidst the morons. They just want to compel me to surrender my tools of glory. I surrender none. Love my life for its driftwood grit. The driftwood in me might fail at last, but still travelled a lot many paths of dignity on my own. I have being a damned one for so long to cheer for anything beautiful like you. Let me wear the crown of love forever. Lately it’s falling off with envy, so fragile. Fear not to end up a *wasteheart. Abandoned by my own, kept drifting away with the flow of time through the murky labyrinth of graceful sorrow. Kept peace at heart somehow. I never choose this life of driftwood on my own. Abandonly alone and left over in this ruthless world, I kept alive myself as a fearsome driftwood. My wall of crudity let me survive through the paths full of lies and hatred. Lost as a wanderer from the very beginning of this life, saved only by the driftwood song. I still want to celebrate life and be loved. I may be driftwood for the world, but for her I want to be alive. Till now life was an unholy alliance of angst and deceit.

   

Compelled by my lust for life, I introduced my heart to this ravishing mystery called love. I firmly resist myself from falling for it. This time only, life has offered me a second chance to surrender my driftwood heart on her innocent and tender feet. At last, this driftwood heart searches for a home. Tried many a times to touch her soul with my fragile lyrics. She cares for none, she seldom looks towards me. Wait eternally for that magical glance. Expect not to return to tearful days of loneliness for the heart. Her innocent beauty soothes my troubled senses. Yet very aware, this momentary engagement of senses will end up with a tearful farewell…may be! Should I hold her hand? Or just let her pass by. I count my steps with utmost care, not to fall into a self-praised trap. Wish, I live to see her thousand times in thousand lives. She is the charm of my life; only she can bring hope to this driftwood’s sullen heart

Fear she will deceive me; she has her throne placed high up there. She loves to live in her glass castle, surrounded by ogres and selfies. She has veiled her mind with arrogance. Her fickle mind captures no image of mine. Ignorance has enveloped her heart and mind. She let her mind get corrupted by her youth and beauty. Feel silly, while chasing an unbound mystery of great desire. My heart still craves for that heartless beautiful breath of hers’. That foolish, carefree driftwood heart of mine still wants to see her beside my death bed. Her thought itself brings innocent cheer to that bleeding and ruptured lump of flesh of mine, called heart. I know I can die thousand times, for that crazy innocent smile. Hope one day she will trace my soul, at last. But my heart is torn apart with the belief, that love is a falsified notion of well-being. Still want to have these words for her on my shriveling lips while on my death bed…MAUT KE AAHOSH MEIN BHI UNHEIN YAAD KARTE RAHEIN!

That beautiful clarion smile on her face challenges all reality. Sometime I assume she is unreal. But the very next moment she acts as the symbol of pure divineness then and there. Can I hold on to my life for few more precious moments to glance on that charming and passionate sight of devilishly soulful love to cherish? I might turn into a *losenger for life. All I want is her presence among my creations in this earthly abode of mine. Not acting selfish, I suppose? Will she be there to spread love and care among the distorted and absurd creations of mine? Will my creations be brought alive with her sultry lips? Will they be blessed with her kiss of life? And truly become eternal. Will she touch upon the unknown? Or the driftwood will always be followed by the *merry-go-sorry story?

Saw her last night with my eyes closed and felt her sensuous body troubling my bold black lines on that cramped up paper. The broad big brush of mine just stopped to gaze at her sultry moves. The paper shriveled with her touch. That jealous warm body of hers’ writhes with desire on my naked lonely white canvas. The love struck body rises like a phoenix of creativity amidst all the dark clouds of despair. Those crazily sensuous eyes of hers’ pushed my palette beyond all imagination. The colours become truly alive and engaging, I owe it to her. Tried to catch her breath with my breath, but she is not to be a docile one. Chased her wildly fragrant flowing hair drawing upon my face ruthlessly. Etching my face with her lustful touch. Again I failed to embrace her with my dreadful cracked up stupid words. What a loser I am. Cry out my soul alone, away from her loveless glances; somewhere in the dark damp corner of heartbreak.

Wow, she keeps intriguing me with those soothing lyrical words and acts. She is the rainbow of hope for this driftwood soul. Why I still desire her, is a flipping notion of solace may be. Or probably she is the most desirable one. Or simply my senses are too drunken up and scared to live alone with her rude parting song. I keep standing there at the edge of my heart endlessly, to sing the last song of this driftwood sojourn. Made a solemn promise to myself, to dedicate my life to live with those short and sweet carefree memories of hers’, which I’m blessed with. I cry out for the last time, be mine or else erase me from this world of yours, forever! Suddenly she glanced back at me and just burn down my entire lionised ego. She took some time to tenderly cleanse my heart with her love lit angel eyes. I gasped for breath, what a sight to behold!

Somehow courage myself to ask her name at last…she answered with her surreal voice, but can’t reveal it now. She pretends to be there somewhere…but not yet, not yet, not yet!

*Wasteheart - Used to express grief, pity, regret, disappointment.

*Losenger - A flatterer, a lying rascal.

*Merry-go-sorry - A mixture of joy and sorrow. 

By: ©Soumen Bhowmick, September 2017. 

       www.soumenart.blogspot.in

THE MAN WHO KILLED GOD

The Man Who Killed God by Soumen Bhowmick, pastel on paper 2013.

Some call him God, some Bhagwan, others have Allah on their lips.Chanting the almighty's name, praying to him is always a mode of solace for our troubled souls. Don't know where God lives. Just some man-made structures to accommodate his presence on earth. Some say he resides in our heart or to be precise our soul bears his shadow.

From the time mankind step into this world, he was followed by God in his every breath. This so-called immortal unknown entity was always there amidst us. Can't deny the truth that we mortals fear him from time immemorial. From the cave days to the present days of digitised existence. 

One day the mortal being took upon himself the challenge to kill his creator, the GOD himself. Well it was not just an idea in vague, but a real life scenario.We all seem to know that man who sacrificed his soul to have the blood of God in his hands. He is born to serve the other side. The dark side, where the soul seized to exist. He planned it from the very beginning to cut God into pieces. That man took upon himself this despicable act to serve the tyrant's purpose of banishing sanity from this world. God knew that his creation is drawing the blade to cut through him. Death for God was foretold by the occult. 

The man who killed God is very dear to all of us. Do you now him? Dig little dipper inside your heart and you will find him hiding there. Protected by the Cocoon, of your ignorance and lust. He exists in your blood and bones, sometimes rattling your senses to make his presence felt. The killer is suave, good looking, smells good and acts really smart. But he is dangerous to his toe-nails. The killer is known to us by many names. He always strikes his targets with impunity. He has no remorse for his unfortunate victims. He gets fanatic if he can't commit a killing. A tyrant from every angle. But catching him is another ball-game. He is a master of disguise and very shrewd. Entering the carcasses of humanity within a split second. He loves to draw his evil strength from the living beings, although he himself is a soulless phantom. 

The day I saw God lying dead on a busy street near my house, I knew it, that the killer has done his job well. The fragile body of God was lying there like a dead leaf. The ribs protruding out of the rib-cage, hunger was flashing in his teary eyes, clothes torn apart, a face erased of any sign of sanity. Just few among the humans gather around him to remorse. Some even clicked selfie with the lying dead body of God!  
God seemed to have no pain while being killed. God accepted death with a big smile on his face. He was just hungry for some food and was looking for a shelter. God accepted death without any resistance of whatsoever form. So sharp words were exchanged between God and his killer. No chilling cry for help. No help came either. Tears were seen running down God's cheek. Those drops of pure bliss were left behind for the killer to rejoice his devilish act. 

During those last moments of life and death, God only asked to be buried or burned with some care and respect. He never got his due respect during his journey on earth. He was always ignored and tortured for his honesty and Godliness. 

By now we all search for the killer. Not a corner was spared to hunt him down. But fools we are...the killer is right there among us. So smart and faceless. Absolutely fearless of his dastardly act on earth.

Do we know the killer of God yet?


By : Soumen Bhowmick, Jan 2017.