Letters to and from Papa_2014
A series of handmade pages are hung vertically from the ceiling by invisible threads. A closer inspection reveals that there are faint traces of almost illegible handwriting written in the artist’s native tongue on the pages. This is a letter written to someone dear, a letter that was never sent. It appears like someone has deliberately scrubbed out the writing, leaving behind shadowy traces of words never expressed. Clusters of pins grouped around particular words jut out of the letter, piercing through the frail surface. In retrospect, the pierced words reveal the words that pierce your heart the most, the most touching and heartfelt words you don't want to read again.
This installation is a letter written by the artist to her Papa, who passed away years before. It is an imagined conversation written in the form of a letter, existing in the hypothetical. But it is a painful conversation, as the pricks of the pins would like to remind the viewer.
Even though it has been many years since the passing, the indelible presence of someone so significant to you does not fade that easily. The letter expects a response despite the shattering absence of the recipient and the words contained here are full of unanswered questions in the wake of such a profound personal loss, but it is evident that they would never be sent and never receive a response. It seems like the artist herself does not want to face the words.
The barely perceptible words contained in these pages are a play on presence and absence, as the ghostly words will never reach the recipient. This letter fails its delivery purpose but serves as a storage box of memories and bottled-up emotions that can never be expressed, drawing blood every time you read it.
2lbs of Butter and Sugar_2014
A childlike voice repeats a haunting nursery rhyme in the background as the camera focuses on the face of the artist. Set in front of her is a plate piled high with cubes of cold butter. As we watch, the artist begins to feed herself spoonfuls of butter matching the beat of the song, her face contorting from the effort of it. As the video progresses we notice that the spoonfuls grow larger in size, to the point that the artist is reduced to the point of retching. Yet she pushes through the pain, almost choking on the morsels of butter as her body violently rejects this act of self-inflicted force-feeding.
Sugar and butter represent the two of the most indulgent substances, the manifestation of guilty pleasures at their rawest form. In order to achieve success, to do best, it is essential to deny yourself pleasure, following the path of sobriety and a renunciation of pleasure. And yet there are moments when your convictions are forced to shatter, when you are pushed to the cusp and the indulgence that you have denied takes over you, uncontrollably and violently. This performance is a conversation at the cusp of the subconscious, with the haunting lullaby and the memories of the past foregrounding what is about to happen as a consequence of this overindulgence.
Halfway through the performance, the tempo of the nursery rhyme picks up, and we are forced to watch as the artist struggles to keep up with the rhythm, eschewing her fork and knife and reducing herself into a frenzy of chewing on raw butter sticks. The performance ends as the distorted rhyme and the amount of food overwhelms the artist: she ends up vomiting out the contents that she has frantically shoved down her throat.
“Parul, Parul.
Yes, Papa?
Feeding butter?
Yes, Papa.
Adding sugar?
Yes, Papa.
Telling a lie?
No, Papa.
Open your mouth,
Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Tuhi Ghee Shakar Khilayegi_2014
The video performance opens with a close-up shot of the artist’s hand as she softens butter (ghee) and sugar, moulding them to form alphabets from the Hindi language. As the video progresses, the sentence “tuhi ghee shakar khilayegi” begins to take shape. This is based on a common saying from northern India, that means “you will be the one to feed us sugar and butter”. You will be the one to give us all the sweet pleasures of life. You will be the one to earn the bread and butter. This is a phrase that the artist remembers her father by; his expectations that his dear daughter will take care of him and provide him the little luxuries of life in his later years, expectations that could not be met as her father passed away when she was barely a young woman.
In the video, as the artist focuses on moulding new letters, assembling the sugar and butter mixture with all the love and care she can muster, the words already formed react with the atmospheric heat, beginning to break down and melt into the concrete pavement. After a while, nothing remains of the words except the faint wet lines created by molten butter and sugar. She remembers her father by these words, they carry a sense of unfulfilled expectations, a sense of deep mourning and loss. But the words meld away into nothingness, and the presence of the artist’s beloved one slowly grows faint, but the weight of the unfulfilled expectations burdens the mind.