One Single Frame

Vancouver.

I stumbled into the Woodword's Atrium yesterday. The ease with which the space accomodated a basketball ring, public seating, TVs, a large spiral staircase and a piano, will make you want to...

Pause. Have a seat. Reflect. Sketch.

So I opened my little orange book and thought of completing a sketch from last year.

Back in Khatwani village in Maharashtra, Dipika and Ashok hosted us one night on short notice. We had gotten ourselves a rickety auto and driven through paddy fields in pitched darkness, hoping to find Ashok. In all probability, our visit was a surprise to them and we introduced ourselves under the starry night.

The one clf light at Dipika's kitchen-cum living room-cum cow shed was what I sketched this scene that night under, while miraculously not slipping over the giant bhaisa's poop and pee.

A year later, this sketch was meant to be completed amidst the comfort of strangers again. I don't have the clarity of thought to evaluate or communicate what goes through my mind when I experience such situations, but I hope the juxtapositioning of these two scenes help convey some of it.

To me, both scenes tell the same story - they are both spaces that's are able to handle a conundrum of activities, lives and stories in one single frame.

Perhaps it'll tell you a different story. Perhaps it'll tell me a different story, next time.