Shekerk's Weblog

Kochi now

April 22, 2008
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I was in Kochi a week ago, getting there by a train that reached in less than half the time it took fifteen years ago. As we entered Kochi my friend called on the mobile phone and said he could see a train coming in. He was wondering if it was the train I was in since he wanted to send his car to fetch me from the station. I wasn’t sure. He asked me to look out the left window and see if I could spot his apartment in the middle of the lagoon. I said, Oh my god, yes! Far away it stood like a stocky, pink and squarish stork on water, one of a large flock of tall high rises. If I had a boat I would be in his apartment in minutes. As it turned out the car took nearly an hour through the choked roads to reach his place. Kochiites have learned to live with dwindling infrastructure and mushrooming urban growth.

Later I stood on the twelfth floor balcony letting my eyes get used to the humungously wide seaside panorama that lay spread below me. A golden brown brahminy kite (Haliastur indus) circled slowly over the water searching for fish. Something seemed strange about the sight. Then with a shock it came to me. For the first time in my life I was looking down instead of up, at a flying brahminy kite. I felt like some petty little god in his new-found empyrean. I was an intruder into the perfect world of bird and fish. I was a rank upstart in this age-old scheme. Surely time will tell on everything and all the high rise buildings and other things we have created shall go and then the brahminy kite shall fly high over all again. There shall not be a me or others like me to look down upon his majestic tawny back.

For now, Kochi lay stretched out silently below me and away to the distant haze of the east where stood the Western ghats. In the pale, green lagoon a few boats of varying sizes were plying on some unknown errands. Only a largish inland barge that lay low on the water, heavy with some load, made some noise as it chugged into a lazy turn, bound for the harbour to the west. Here and there I could see small country boats, hardly seven feet in length, lying still. Local fishermen at work with a hook and a rod or a small net. I was surprised to see them here amidst all this urban growth. From this height (about 150 feet) the water looked quite clean to me. Perhaps the lagoon yielded enough fish for the fishermen to feed their families.

Kochi has been home to many waves of foreign visitors over its long history. Most of them made their fortunes in spices from the rain-drenched mountains to the east. They shipped the precious pepper, cardamom, nutmeg and what-have-you through these very waters. From the port the spices were loaded on to sailing ships that then sped silently over the seas to Portugal, Spain, England and Venice.

The synagogue in Kochi is one of the oldest in India where services are still held. Most of the Jewish population has migrated, mainly to Israel. Only some die-hard families remain.


Recent work

April 12, 2008
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Leaf studyMaya 01 Synagogue drawing 01avuncularity strangler figtrain passenger series 01

Most of these paintings and drawings are quite new. The oldest is from 2006. I have experimented with various mixed media here. My favourite medium is pen and ink. Along with that I try to mix gouache, some colour pencil, rotring tech pen and any other thing that makes an expressive mark. Supports are also equally varied. Some of my best results have been on brown corrugated board, the sort in which television sets are shipped. Excellent midtone for starting me off. It also makes a wonderful thick sound when worked with a pen or a pencil. I’ve even used sandpaper. I also use the glossy, white backs of old calendars. Good surface, plus I feel good since I’m recycling. A lot of half-finished work lurks around in various corners of my studio. Usually I stumble upon one quite accidentally and then the work gets completed. Recently I finished something I had begun twelve years ago!


Things change…

April 10, 2008
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People change and as they change so they change their living spaces. So cities change. Spaces inside cities become large and hence more anonymous. A city changes shape like a person changing clothes. Every once in a while the city sits up and sees how worn out and ill-fitting its streets, buildings and things have become. The city then shrugs off the old clothes and puts on new ones. Sometimes the change is for the better. Sometimes not. Trivandrum is right now going through a change of clothes. She is unrecognisable in certain ways because of her new adornments.

Like this apartment belonging to my friend’s sister. In the photograph we are looking down into the atrium from the 13th floor. That’s Tony there across the cavernous shaft. He looks so tiny and forlorn. This place could easily pass for a hotel or a hospital or a prison. So much for the warmth of a human dwelling. This is not the scale that a human should be subjected to. Looks like something from the third reich.

Of course there is pressure on land. Everyone wants something like this.