Imagine enclosed in white walls of rain, a lowering white sky, glints of green foliage punctuating the whiteness, glistening off surfaces, structures horizontal, vertical, underpinned by the dark loamy blackness of the ground. Imagine a canopy of white filtered light, watching the rain pouring through windows, interminable, in a long passageway.
Tomb-like, enshrined numbness, enshrouded- the peaceful tranquillity of death, where one ceases to feel. Sepulchre- like where even your thoughts, words fade on the threshold, drowned out in the flowing, watery milkiness of oblivion. Metallic surfaces, where the lights slide off into tiny clinking shards, ricocheting through the conversation, tiny mysterious echoes from the deep. It wouldn't then be too hard to take a tangential leap of imagination and imagine how it would be in Hazrat Nuh's (AS) arc, amidst the Diluvian downpour,
Part of Koel's new café seems a bit like that, if you look at the white cemented walls, the polished tables, the myriad of textures complimenting and playing off each other. From the Stone Age type of scratchy, engraved panels on the walls, the way the plaster is applied in waves, adding to the effect of rippling water, on a swaying surface, to the way the light filters through textured white fabric to fuse everything into a harmonious dreamy whole. Ideal to forget the senseless confusion of these bizarre meaningless times. Where doubts and suspicions and death and deceit hangs in the air. Death rules here too, but in its pristine, peaceful form, not in its warped face of violent terror.
On the other side, the courtyard beckons, with its overgrown sprawl of a magnificent flower-laden Champa tree. Other potted plants sprout here and there enclosing tables and benches, amidst glistening pools or dishes of flowers. A bit like a forgotten, overgrown paradise. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep but I have miles to go before I sleep..." whispers Robert Frost from behind a potted creeper. It is about the Art exhibition that I must write, but escapism is too alluring, the desire to forget the harsh reality in the tendrils of a vine.
"Kuch tau kaho" - the exhibition reflects on the too raw and painful topic of Talibanisation which happens to be playing havoc with our country. The "Kuch tau kaho" exhibition features well known artistes reflecting on the government's, cleric's etc incriminating silence over the veniality of the group's actions. Silence which could lead to acquiescence, submission, and social suicide, quite literally.
Most of the works reflect the bloodied, troubled times. Jabbar's sculptures featuring missiles, rockets aimed at families. The inordinate use of force against helpless unarmed citizens, trapped in the crossfire, like sitting ducks, or used as decoys.
He also alludes to the fact that the Taliban were the creation of a foreign power in "The gift to the Third World," financed by dubious sources. The other works are equally disturbing, in gloomy shades of red and black, as if under a cloud of dread and suspicion. A R Nagori's works continue the sense of helpless insecurity faced by ordinary citizens at the mercy of these terrorists with political elements exploiting the situation. A 'Thellewallah' for instance, does not know whether he'll return home. Will he die in a terrorist attack or be caught in the crossfire between ethnic groups or at the hands of the government agencies as he implies "In the supreme sacrifice."
Ghalib Baqar's work are somewhat prettier reflections on the same theme with raining blood, red dashes drenching the works in the Red Road series. Naheed Raza's works perhaps reflect the suppressed plight of women, suffocated within four walls under the Taliban regime
The 'C factor' and the other two works by R .M. Naeem are the most enigmatically effective of the works in conveying the atmosphere of doubt and insecurity stalking our society, further deepening ethnic fault-lines and social rifts. They reflect the fear and suspicion that now reigns, when one wonders whether the man standing next to you belongs to the Taliban, or is he an undercover agent or terrorist? As, seemingly ordinary citizens are brainwashed and turned into suicide bombers, terrorists, or collaborators and informers. The rift between the Haves and have-nots as well ethic loyalties are exploited to entice the man on the street to join their cause, the result only further widens ethic, economic fractures.
'The Assembly' may reflect the rigid authority the Taliban wield, which tolerates no dissent, while 'The Right Path' has an enigmatic spiritual appeal. Is he trying to say that true religion lies within, in your conduct and humane compassionate behaviour, not in outward appearances? In the beard or dress while killing innocent children without a blink of an eye?
The true spirituality of Islam is reflected in Summaya Durrani's works "Jadel Hasani wal Husain" reflecting on the title of the Holy Prophet (SAW) as the grandfather of Hazrat Imam Hasan (RA) and Hazrat Imam Husain (RA),who sacrified for the faith. The Holy Prophet (SAW) symbolises the quality of compassion and mercy, while Hazrat Imam Hasan (RA) ceded his right to the caliphate to avoid shedding Muslim blood. Hazrat Imam Husain's (RA) self sacrifice at Karbala is well-known. The peace and serenity of the works reflects the spirit of the original teachings and its Messenger (SAW).
The rest of the exhibition revolves around the same 'too-painful-to-dwell-on' theme. Salima Hashmi's white, torn fabric-like pieces, reflecting our own souls or the crumbling fabric of our society/ country, Jamal Shah's angry explosions.