Thursday, 20 March 2014

An Artist's Plea....

An Artist's Ordeal in the form of Poetry , Raghurajpur , Odisha  ( Indiblogger.... HalfStories , Doing It Right )

                                     


Years ago I was welcomed ,
With cuddles and hugs and love ,
As a newborn ,
In this village of art ,
Whose history travels decades back .
With innocent eyes I looked around ,
To get amazed and astound ,
By the vibrancy ,the vigor ,
By the art and the artists in store .
My little fingers mingled along ,
Hesitantly with colors , brushes , paper and sketches spread on the floor ,
I went back again and again wanting more .
With time as my hands were able to clutch ,
It chose a brush instead of slate ,
To dive inside an artist’s palette .
Tangy yellow or divine white , glossy red or lustrous green ,
Shady black or dull grey ,
My love for them never frayed .  

                                      
When and how I fell in I never knew ,
But each time my feelings renewed  ,
Never letting me go off ,
In search of an alien land or unknown stuff .
These colors held me tight in it’s arms ,
Mixing blending mingling fusing ,
Mesmerizing me each day ,
With new undiscovered charms .

The wheels of time passed on fast ,
And as a full fledged artist my journey was about to start ,
Every day as the sun arrives with a new day ,
I bent down for hours ,
Filling in colors , decorating my Lord ,
Bringing him alive on  paper blocks .
The shells of coconut sometimes serve as canvas.
Bathing in colors of black and ash ,
Expressing the lives of RadhaKrishan ,
Conveying love evincing  heavenly feelings ,
Beautifying those Gopis devoted to Lord .

I took a pledge to commit my life ,
As an artist worshiping art .
My dusk my  dawns got coalesced together ,
Drawing painting filling in colors ,
Giving final strokes even when the clock struck mid night ,
Neither searching nor remembering the comforts of a fertile life .
Then , one fine day she too stepped in ,
Into my shoes to help me paint ,
Wiping off strain reducing my stress .
Together we dwelt deep into this world ,
Of art of artists build with a distinct mold ,
Caring sharing looking into each other’s eyes ,
My love for art and my better half ,
Satiated my inner self with reasons to strive .
Things went on fine for months , for years ,
For  decades and some more .

When one unfortunate event opened my eyes ,
Compelling me to look otherwise .
With few bucks in my pocket  I couldn’t provide ,
A good treatment to my wife ,
When in pain she strived .
Her heart wrenching wails stopped my hands ,
To paint to brush to mingle with those colorful strands .
Dejected dismayed I sat near my door ,
Watching the wind swing along the coconut trees ,
When someone’s hand touched my shirt’s crease .
                                                       
It was my son who had come to talk ,
About questions in his mind ,
Whether on a new path we need to walk .
What has this art given us father he inquired ,
Aren’t you simply tired .
Your devotion your dedication nothing matters much ,
When you have to face the realities of the world as such .
Putting aside other things just think about us once ,
Is this art a blessing or an obscure curse .
Which snatched away our mother in front of our eyes ,
But didn’t grant us enough to help her survive .
What is this art which snatches away your loved one ,
Because never ever did enough it let you earn .
A doubt too then sneaked into my psyche ,
Searching it’s real worth behind it’s hype .
What if tomorrow again my kids face the same ,
And lead the same life as me ,
Getting underpaid by those middlemen .
What if again fate deceives them ,
Handing them nothing more than appreciation letters ,
No , I can’t let someone else’s dream shatter .
So , here I am today in front of you ,
Asking for some time ,
Asking for a generous thought ,
As a long battle we have already fought .
To help us live a life of respect and dignity ,
Never losing our focus  from our art ,
Never diluting it’s sanctity .
It won’t cost much if you would really care ,
Coz it’s a battle to be won ,
Playing honest  and fair .
An artist may not demand for money name or fame ,
Still he has to play the so called ,
Life’s game .
So help me grow , help me survive ,
Help me today as I need your support to fight ,
The big bad world which doesn’t understand ,
That a piece of Art ,
Deciphers a million words .





Raghurajpur “ The Heritage Village is near Puri in the state of Odisha ,where every villager is an Artist and every home a Art Studio .








But unfortunately these talented artist’s are deprived of the deserving value of their  art work. They toil for hours , days , months , years and decades together to help this legacy continue .
Now , it’s time we share our part and contribute some amount for the betterment of these gifted artists who are born with the identity of an Artist and die in the same .

Click here to know more ….http://doright.in/

This post is for Indiblogger’s Half Stories …The Journey Of Doing Right  for the Artist’s of Raghurajpur  an Initiative by TATA Capital .



                                                

                                                       







5 comments:

  1. Loved the poetry, shares the plight and gives an insight to these artist's minds. Full justice done to the prompt!

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  2. Very nicely expressed, Sushree. You have shared the real story through a touching poem.
    Our hearts go out to the plight of the talented artists of Raghurajpur.
    Luckily, a website will soon be in place and make things better.
    Best wishes.

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  3. Thank you so much Midnight scribbles and Anita for your lovely comments. I am glad that you liked the poetry :)

    I originally hail from Puri district and my ancestral village is nearby the heritage village of Raghurajpur ....

    I was elated to see the initiative taken by Tata Capital and Indiblogger for these artists.
    Hope they get the due worth for their hard work and dedication .
    Long live the Artists and long live the Art ....

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  4. A lovely poem for an important cause. And beautiful pictures too. Very well done, Sushree!

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  5. Thank you so much ....Beloo :)

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Do scribble down few words ...it motivates :)