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Once upon in 1958, she was just nineteen...
Pensively sitting on a boat, Chinnama could feel the touch of the gold chain against her neck, and well aware of how the locket rested against a freshly ironed saree. The streams were clear, and she loved how the oars cut into the cool water. This wasn’t a ride that she enjoyed in her father’s island; she was being taken to her husband’s home. She was the first one to be married off, but she was hardly trepid, she dutifully cared for her nine siblings and she knew she knew this was a plunge towards another type of unconditional love. On the boat were suitcases of her clothes and an assortment of food to be gifted; now she just had to follow the currents of the sea.
49 years later, Chinnama’s granddaughter sat on a bed with a suitcase packed for her. Oblivious of what it truly meant, she straightened out the pleats of her favorite red skirt. Her mother gently stroked her hair and said. “On your first day of school, you can wear this.” The granddaughter hated the fact that her bag was packed and only saw it as another summer vacation; she never imagined what it would be like to live without her mother. But the day she sat on the verandah, waved a goodbye and watched her mother take off to the airport; she had the strangest uprooted experience. There were no currents that could just carry her away.
That’s when Chinnama welcomed her grandchild to a new world. And it started with the length of my red skirt that I wore to school. “Skirts should always be long even for the long run,” she said. I was sixteen when I left Nigeria and shifted to Kerala, oblivious to almost everything. Kerala seemed hound-like with its vicious mores and folkways and the concept of understanding my roots was nouveau. Because those days, my grandmother’s home comprised of picture- perfect moments of cousins pulling me on coconut fronds, us scaring the poor cats lured by her sumptuous fish curries, and playing the game who could kill more mosquitoes. But vacations teach you nothing but to dream. For the first time, I became a part of a world; I was not ready to face. And my grandmother taught me a lesson, stay grounded.
I once read, “A woman armed with ancestral wisdom is an unstoppable force.” Kerala was never easy, and she never made it easier. You may take this in the wrong sense, but my grandmother showed me the hardships of how a society works. No, she wasn’t one to tell stories, or moreover whine, I just saw her constant dedication and how she cares for everyone deeply. She always shoulders everyone’s concern which teaches you two things, life’s yours to make better but life’s also never yours too. Her old-fashioned notions challenged me, because it sometimes reeked of ageless wisdom. Thus my two worlds were at a conflict, I could never have the best of both. And my no man’s land was the dining table- where confusion was pacified by pen and paper. She may have never read famous books, but my experiences of growing up in her home gave me the courage to leave and explore different cities. At 25, I look back at what she taught me about beauty, identity, bravery and love.
79 IN TIME BY ATHEENA WILSON
01: PROLOGUE
02: WHEN WAS WHEN
03: TAKEN BY THE CURRENT
04: BEAUTY
05: IDENTITY
06: BRAVERY
07: LOVE
08: EPILOGUE
Run parallel, meet at intersections, skip a few lines, the line of thought has journeyed across a few latitudes and longitudes. To more miles before the big sleep. Cheers, Atheena
Its been a journey from being a young soul where I have felt only love but unaware of its importance in my life I searched for love all over and only felt pain, scars and reality but never true love I still keep searching.
If there’s anything that I have stolen from my grandmother’s shelf of knick-knacks is a spoonful of pickle and some sweet and sour sarcasm. And yes, thanks to that I landed a job as a writer in a magazine.
You wear a saree only when you become a woman.” It sounds like a sentimentally wise thing to say, but let me break it down to you. In other words, it also meant, “When you’re ripe enough for the marriage market.”
Chilean poet and featuring artist at the Kochi Muziris Biennale 2016 on the possibility of an artistic response to the human crises of our time, including the refugee crisis surrounding the conflict in Syria. The sea, which became a grave for hundreds of people, including children.
Theyyam is a vibrant and colourful form of ritualistic worship that is deeply rooted in the culture and traditions of Kerala, India. This living tradition involves elaborate rituals, music, dance, and vibrant costumes that bring to life the divine spirits being invoked.
A new beginning is always infused with hope. Life is full of moments that we believe to be beginnings only because of the presence of hope. A physical symbol of these moments of hope is the flower. The films attempts to capture the emotion of these beginnings.
Dravidian Catharsis is the fruit of this deep immersion in the culture, the theatre, the traditions, and the soul of this mythological universe of the Tamil people. The powerful presences of spirits and living gods are embodied under masks.
Legend says that somewhere deep in the forest of the Himalayas is a strange bird that lays psychedelic eggs. Eating them will give you highly vivid hallucinations. The indigenous shamans believe that these visions are from your past life.
Ryuichi Sakamoto passed away this year on 28th March leaving behind a legacy of innumerable musical compositions that'll keep him alive in countless hearts across the world. However, I'll always be haunted by the fact that I couldn't let him know that I'm still alive because of his music along with many more.
Search for the questions to the answers written on the skin...and i asked. am i connected to the deep inside you? with the invisible roots from the layered skin of you? all the energy you transfer to the heart of your thoughts?i asked again am i still connected?
01: Ayurveda in Travancore Kingdom
If you expect stories which starts: Once upon a time, there was a princess... stop reading. Her Highness Princess Gouri Parvathi Bayi of the Travancore Royal Family will introduce us very modern and open minded view on today's Kerala society and ayurveda.
Stories of communities about origin, spread and apocalypse being presented through episodic memories, narrative and visual texts, travel writings, murals, divine objects, church paintings, and songs provide a dense and myriad repository of historical and artistic imagination.
IN OUR VEINS FLOW INK AND FIRE
This edition of the KMB 2022 embodies the joy of experiencing practices of divergent sensibilities, under conditions both joyful and grim. There is optimism even in the darkest absurdity, and this is what leavens the direness of our time.
KR Sunil goes beyond his frames to explore and discover soulful human stories. In this journey, he pursues a long forgotten life, that of a Tamil boy who endured the worst in a journey to Kerala. As the World Cup fever peaks, here is a story.
Presenting to you the most exciting project that we have worked on this year! A short film shot entirely on phone, this project has been a dream & after a lot of anticipation & hard work from all of us here, we are super duper excited to finally bring this to you!
Nitesh Noor Mohanty is a visual artist who works at the fluid intersection of arts, culture, communication, media and self-reflection. His theoretical interests are also wide, often inquiring about the roots and fundamentals of art history, storytelling, and philosophy.
Life & Times of Amrita Sher-Gil
Amrita Sher-Gil, considered the mother of Indian modern painting, became known as the Indian Frida Kahlo. With her paintbrush she explored the sadness felt by people, especially women, in 1930s India, giving voice and validity to their experiences.
