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Sketches |
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| She speaks….”As so called educated, sophisticated individuals, what are we actually saying?? If a handful of individuals are worshipped and adulated on the strength of Hollywood visibility or media proliferation, how does it impact on the rest of the world?? Art is becoming increasingly indistinguishable from lifestyle culture. The modernist aesthetic criteria that originated from the West is, in my opinion, long redundant. A vague ‘democratic’ free market has turned the word CONSUMPTION on its head. Half the world is overstimulated, with little free personal time, and the other half is understimulated, with too much time! So both versions end up thinking the grass is greener on the other side…..There are so many amazing and interesting debates taking place in the world today. They rarely make it to the newspapers or TV. If something cannot be sold, and if there isn’t some sort of ‘profitabilty’ package indirectly associated to it, its voice remains low. So with these types of thoughts hammering on in my brain every time I go to my cousins’ dinner parties (where everyone is a successful corporate type, tired from too many time-zone business class travels), or everytime I watch a bad movie that made millions at the box office, I delight in coming back home to the open discussions on the internet. Slowly, the virtual world that I inhabit seems more real than the ‘real’ one! | ||
SKETCHES BY KETNA PATEL 2006
The roles I play……Daughter, sister, girlfriend, wife, mother, boss, employee, neighbour, friend, colleague, acquaintance, hostess…... When I cry, which part of me is really hurting? Where to start defining what makes up who we think we are?
What is relief? A trashy novel on a holiday, a walk in the rain, a spending spree on Orchard rd, perfume, a decaf late, Sunday at home, an aimless drive, surfing the internet, staring at the trees….
Do as you are told. Read the lifestyle magazines. Do as you are told. Wear branded clothes. Do as you are told. Copy the celebrity chefs on TV. Do as you are told. You make more friends if you hold cans of fizzy drinks. Do as you are told. Don’t jaywalk. Do as you are told. Go to the right shops. Do as you are told.
Wake up, light up, commute, choke up, work, cigarette break, pretend to work, smoke break, go home, light up…
Age 24, single, never married, no children, height 5’ 9”, wheatish complexion, slim body type, finance professional, American green card, non vegetarian, non smoker, gujarati hindu, ……seeks traditional wife.
Had a fight. Need carrot cake at coffee Bean straight away. How dare he talk to me that way? Never feel appreciated. Hate work. Don’t like our apartment. Why can’t the lift stop on our floor? Why can’t we live like Steven and Jasmine Tan? She is so slim. Don’t care. I deserve carrot cake. Hate commuting by train. Why can’t we have a car like Patricia and Sanjay Shah?
What happened to you? Why did you buy sixty eight bottles of perfume? Why did you eat so much? Why did you sit so much?
Mister mister! You want girl? You want mushroom? You want rolex? You want driver? You want boy? You want sarong? You want me??
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What do you think of this statement? : Self-interest is functional up to a point and dysfunctional thereafter…
I am barely hanging on……Need a valium.
We sit all day. Then we sit some more. Then sleep, wake up, and sit all over again.
We are all made up of the same energy, only the manifestation differs. The essence of life inhabits both solid and void. Ancient knowledge is passed down through ink and paper, which was once part tree and mineral…..ashes to ash, dust to ast…..
Whilst eating my sandwich in my comfortable AC room, I turn on the TV and watch images of children running away from fire and uniformed men with guns….yet another war story……….I get up and go to the kitchen for more mustard.
Tick Tock ….the breasts are chiming.
Today’s glorious world: The air is grey; factories making us more things that we do not need spew out their relentless smoke; the insect on my balcony is choking, and the flowers I planted yesterday are all dead. I have to buy clean water, and end up worrying about all the plastic in our oceans and rivers. What are we doing? What is it all for, and who are we kidding??
The lines on my mother’s forehead are made up the washing on the line and the tyre tracks from the army tanks that have just invaded. What is that ticking sound? Is it her heart or a bomb?
The proud Sikh vegetable seller at the end of the road is an interesting man. Everyday, he stands in the heat and humors the annoying housewives as they haggle for a few cents discount. Mr. Singh does not speak much, is impeccably dressed, and has a quiet strength and wisdom which impresses me very much.
My dear father. He works so hard. But I think he enjoys it.
Go online. Look for a cheap deal in a cheap country. Book it with a plastic card.
The villager sees. He walks. He builds his hut. He yearns for the city. Time moves on.
Us city folks. We live on earth. We are scared of small insects. Air conditioning is a must. So are toilets that flush. We need our fix of theatre and films. Free time often equates uneasiness. We buy our food from buildings. Some of our children have never seen real chickens or cows, and yet we eat them.
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