I hate Fridays. They are like those people you wish to avoid but nonetheless happen to meet at regular intervals. Like a ‘dare’ that befalls on you no matter how strategically you try to play. It’s like what one feels like on reaching the top of the giant wheel. It all looks so beautiful from that height. Everything seems within your reach. But as it slowly descends, the larger picture is lost and all you are left with is that thing which lies immediately before your eyes. It’s exactly the way a Friday begins, giving hope to numerous possibilities. But by the time you plan something, it’s all lost. Whoosh. The ride is over. You have to come back to ground reality and begin the circle of daily routine.
The best things happen on a hunch, like they did the week that went by. A women’s film festival, a photography exhibition, a display of drawings put up by school children and another exhibition of a renowned painter, Nabibaksh Mansuri are the events that made my week. There’s something about the places these activities take place in and the kind of people you see there that gives rise to an emotion that lingers around for quite some time. Suddenly, you feel a part of a community that endorses the aesthetically appealing activities. It gives you a different kind of high; a voice that screams out ‘yeah, this is life man’. To paint a picture with bold strokes on a huge canvas, to capture the myriad human expressions through the lens, to appreciate beauty and have the freedom to express it the way you understand it...That’s life.
Had it not been for media studies, I would have taken up fine arts. I’m reminded of a line from Bob Dylan’s song, “People seldom do what they believe in. They do what is convenient, then repent.”