I grew up in a very protected home in a small Indian town. Occasionally, my friends and I would venture out to the outskirts of the gated community we lived in.
We would sneak out on our bicycles to enter narrow alleys lined by houses. The old cracking walls were plastered with election pamphlets, movie posters, training ads for IIT/AIIMS (the quintessential dream of Indian middle class) and reams of local classifieds. I fondly remember the warm smiles, the smell of food being cooked on clay chulas (oven), multicolored saris drying in the open..and mostly those old walls.
In my last visit to India, I picked my camera, hopped on to my old bike and rushed to capture some memories for my paintings.Only to discover, the place had been wiped off to build new roads, buildings and resturants. My heart ached and I felt a deep sense of loss.
About six months back, I started piecing together fragments of my memory to paint this glimpse from my childhood. Finally, it is here..the yellow wall and the red door (I left out the posters..will have them in my next work)
I have a desire to travel and capture India before the old is wiped off by the new. I want to pack my easel and hit the road ..paint what I see, what I feel, what I experience. It is a romantic thought, but who knows..someday?! :)
