Film, Art & Design – Bharat Sarwaiya

This is a selection of written works dating from early 1997-2010. Most of the works were in conjunction with paintings/ drawings. A set of poems was also in a handmade journal, which was illustrated accordingly but it got lost during the years.

13 Nov 97 | Trees with laser sharpened edges: The box of beautiful lie

I was about to reach the top of that tree. At that moment I saw him,
helplessly trying to snatch hold my feet. He was shouting harshly without
noticing the engulfing fog. I took deep breaths,
as it was getting freezing cold and clutched tightly to the branch.
He couldn’t catch me. Instead fog, with its thousands of tiny,
cold droplets surrounded him. Little sounds ceased and I remained motionless.
    The white steam cleared away in seconds…
and his body fell over the slippery ground like some wet blanket.
He had a warm smile, and his eyes reflected the towering old trees surrounding us.
     Rainwater started washing him away.
I remained clinging to that tree, freezing blue with dry fear.

14 Dec 97 | Delighted

God dared to mask everyone.
He now faces the consequences.

20 Dec 97 | Handbag

Glowing blue flower in his palms, unfolding blue broken ribs.
Dark filaments dangling by its ambient color.
He said:
     ” This is beautiful… but my blisters are opening.
I can not hold it any longer…. It hurts.”
   And handed him the blue thing. He then rubbed his palms together…
white powdered smile eroding from his skin.
Dark skyline was cornering the black rain clouds…
spotting out places to rain. He stepped a bit closer to him and said:
      ” Well?”
               He then paused for a while and looked down at his buckled shoes.
He grabbed his tiny white hands inside his huge rough clutching palms,
looked around for a moment and whispered:
      ” Bags for hands shouldn’t be invented… right?”
    Boy’s eyes were filled with raindrops. Salesman walked away
with his usual heavy carry bag full of odd ‘blue’ things.
People opened out their windows to the spraying heavy rain.
But nothing was happening.
             Sun was uncovering its face.