Here we are, long after the streets have emptied.
I’ve finally put together my thoughts on this year’s Kalaghoda Arts Festival, one of the most awaited events in the city.
This year,for me, was all about interaction. It was about giving people a platform which allowed them to share their feelings without hesitation. Take for example this.
Part of a display that allowed readers to add to their thoughts over the course of the festival. Another similar interactive installment asked us to attach any small memoir we had of the city or the relationships we’ve had there.
One of my favorite things about the festival has always been the colorful bangle feature, re-vamped every year. This year it spoke about the contrast between the urban and rural woman, both simply stripped down to a base difference.
The purpose of art has always been defined in various ways. Sometimes it is just to be. Sometimes it’s to highlight things so common we don’t notice them anymore.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Colour, It makes everything so much brighter.
This year was also about hopes and dreams and wishes.
Speaking of which, one of mine finally came true, I got to see the Symphony Orchestra of India perform. It was simply amazing.
Then there were the eclectic butterflies.
We make the best of where we land right? As for the oft repeated tale of turning from a caterpillar into a butterfly, it’s a stereotypical tale but one that everyone feels they’ve been a part of. What’s your Butterfly story?
As far as being a part of something bigger than yourself goes, it doesn’t get better expressed than this.
Fractions, split seconds, moments gone in a flash, these are what we will remember when age has dulled our eyes, or on days when colours seem less bright. Here, in my city, you never have to be lonely. You will always find someone with whom you can be alone together.
And if not, there will always be the wind to catch your hair and make your worries float away. And I will be there for you, Always. That’s a promise.
Much of what I saw and heard and felt leaves me at a loss for words, albeit with a sense of belonging. Maybe next year, I’ll see you there, and you’ll know too.