Changing Ethos

I am an artist and an academician. It has been almost a year since I moved back to India. During this time, I have been reintroducing myself. Everything seems to have undergone immense change, including me. My memories of Chandigarh, my home town, seem to be fading. Chandigarh is losing its character at an alarming rate. I often wonder if I have lost some of my identity as well over these years. My art and recent state of mind are responsive to this change. My first work since my arrival dealt with the notion of “deterioration”. While making art, I have been able to resurrect many haunting questions. Questions are good. They provide us with an opportunity to explore an uncharted territory.

Sometime around my arrival a year ago, hundred and tenth birth anniversary of the artist Sobha Singh was celebrated. For those who are unaware of who he is, Sobha Singh is a painter equivalent to Warner Sallmen who painted the famous “head of Christ”. Sobha Singh saw god in himself and I mean it in a very artist-anatomical-observation kind of way. Many of his creation, I feel are a visual reflection of himself. He is singularly responsible for providing Sikhism with the imagery of its Gurus’ and a visual identity. While writing the last sentence, I recalled how Baba Ram Rahim Singh, of Dera Sacha Suada sect in Punjab once adorned a dress similar to that of Guru Gobind Singh, an act that instigated riots.

In New York, I briefly met Sobha Singh’s great grandson, who appears to have been born and brought up in the U.S. He was suave, clean shaven and married to an “Asian” woman, (the west somehow does not categorize Indian women as Asians). He was a qualified architect and was running a consultancy that did not involve architecture. On bringing up Sobha Singh, he clearly seemed to relish the recognition, yet remained unresponsive. I felt I was putting him on the spot…. on a good spot. I wonder what his real and presumably unshared thoughts were. That reminds me, if someone is really reading this (apart from my wife and one of my students), please Google “Roots of Love”. It is a fine short film, which documents the transforming identity of today's Sikh youth. It is co directed by one of my colleagues.

My commute to where I teach takes around forty five minutes to an hour. With the ever expanding Chandigarh, village Jhansla - tehsil Rajpura and its vicinity has become an education hub, if not one of its suburbs. I prefer to travel by the university bus primarily because driving ceases to be a pleasurable experience in and around Chandigarh. The lush green fields appear to have been swallowed by abrupt and random apartment buildings. It is an urban planning conundrum.

Apart from noticing the unplanned expansion, what I see on the roads is a plethora of expensive foreign cars. However, as a “visual culture” junkie, I am always captivated by the graffiti and stickers that adorn trucks and buses of mass commute. Out of all the images it was the turbaned image of a Punjabi youth with a random slogan that caught my attention. The stylized imagery was remarkably similar to one of the images of college going Bhagat Singh in paghri. I have also seen images of Bhindranwale, which is of course alarming indicator of an unhealthy undercurrent. Let’s get back to Bhagat Singh, the true son of soil. Interestingly enough, on close scrutiny I found that the image is a hybrid of Bhagat Singh’s image and the famous Chandrashekar Azad’s Image. I highly doubt if such a synthesis was intentional. "Serendipity" does this word ring a bell. In addition to the stickers, the turban style has also found place in popular Punjabi music videos. If only Bhagat Singh could travel into future to see today’s India. The over indulgence of our consumerist society today would not have fared well with his communist ideals. Instead of the gallows he would have rather chosen a humble nine to five government job, got married to a women rather than "Azaadi" and fathered children.

I began with Chandigarh and ended up with Bhagat Singh. Many lament Bhagat Singh has been forgotten. While remembering him on the 23^rd of March every year, many of us feel that all the dues to the nation and its hero have been paid. Just wearing a T-Shirt with Bhagat Singh’s image won’t work anymore. It is important to evoke similar sentiment as well. Once you adorn Bhagat Singh or any other freedom fighter on your garment, you carry a sentiment and certain responsibility that accompanies it. One cannot forget Peter Parker's wise word - "With great power comes great responsibility." By the way, I have finally managed to engage our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man in my writing.

However abrupt, I feel the thoughts as narrated are sequential. It is a second home coming for me and everything seems to be gibberish. Interestingly, such a scenario educes a child like spirit of inquisitiveness within me, appealing to further explore our ever changing ethos. I hope my art will be able to reflect this rethinking and rediscovery. I will stop writing now. Writing is tough.