On the morning of 28th May 2018 which I kind of missed because I was drowsy as fuck , my mother politely asked me, “Are you going to Agra today?”…I had been planning to go to Agra for over a week then.
But little did I know then that a relatively easy 7 hour ride in an air-conditioned bus is going to turn into a two day affair involving – an unexpected cancellation, a train derailing accident, a short stop at Barhan Junction (Agra) and multiple changes of conveyance before I could reach home a day later.
Every year the Ramnagaria fair is held on the banks of Ganges at Panchal ghat in my home district Farrukhabad in the state of Uttar Pradesh, India . Beginning in late January and concluding by February end, Ramnagaria is frequented by approximately five hundred thousand pilgrims and tourists from across the country.
These bargains we are into will always keep us wanting.
The man who set the pieces is lost.
And we spent too many years finding pieces of him,
Saving them for souvenirs to sell.
On this quiet night,
The fading memory of your voice is madness…
On a distant skyline,
The last ray of sun went plop into the ocean…
I would have perhaps preferred to make a planned trip to Mathura, but in the aftermath of my few hours of unexpected stay here I have certainly grown more curious about this rather religious city, the birthplace of Krishna, the naughtiest God in Hindu Mythology.
Archiving when it is best practised, concerns itself not only with the form and the content of the artwork but the people behind it — the thriving Habitus. It attempts to personalise artefacts from our past, thus connecting the lives of the artists with the lives their creations. It allows us to go back in time and pull down the curtains.
Moments later, the feast begins and the morning air is ripe with demands for extra serving of coconut chutney, sambhar and the familiar satisfaction of a well fed crowd.