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© Courtesy of Chemould Prescott Road

Queens Mansion, 3rd Floor
G. Talwatkar Marg, Fort
400 001 Mumbai
July 13th, 2010 - July 31st, 2010
Opening: July 13th, 2010 7:00 PM - 9:00 PM

+91- 22- 22000211
Mon-Sat 11-7


water trickles in tributaries, from underneath the earth to water canals and indoor
house- pipes. Like blood collects within the body from its sources in nature and breath,
trickles in capillaries to find its pathway to the brain and the tongue and the heart.
Words get formed as ideas and disseminate energies in known and unknown ways.
Thought is Matter
…of someone, somewhere, there is an amorphous cry…
Like gibberish, it appears senseless, you don’t look at it or pay attention, yet its identity does not dissolve, it rather precipitates within, as unconscious
one step on the chaotic roads of the city, one drop of sweat, footsteps repeating on the
ground like breath unconsciously-
a map gets formed on its own within the body and the mind,
the flute wala
pertinently describes each move of my iris,
but I can’t see him and he is blind himself ...

the route that I have just taken- may be for a water-tap or towards home
separating each step, like thought, I recollect what I had just forgotten
and I feel the gush of energy rushing from underneath the feet to the eyes
“ if it does not get wet, don’t call it an eye.”
A stream of consciousness may start from a minute dot. You may question it’s
existence, accept or might as well ignore it.
You may feel, even though small, its sharp like a pinhead and can not be ignored, or its
vastness like cosmos itself can be all encompassing.
-Shubhalakshmi Shukla

On a day when the weather was one that you would not remember, and the mind pre-occupied with more than what it could hold, Shubhalakshmi came by on a silent visit and sat with me till I read the whole verse, line by line, repeating it more often than I would do normally. The notion that artworks would hover around these phrases and phases was what she shared. Days passed and the word spread to the others who were working intensely on new bodies of work and the verses slipped through the colour and the stitches, the idea and the visual.
Reverie, resonates with the sounds from within.
- Sandra Khare