It is an undeniable fact that creating something gives the creator a high, but being a participant has its own perks. The experience of being touched by good art is a unique one. You are propelled into a state of thoughtlessness, something akin to meditation. I have noticed this more than once in the recent past and realised that this was the reason I looked out for that great film, song or book. Not to be able to laugh or cry, to speak about it eloquently about it after, but to feel something, to feel more in touch with myself and with life.
Over the years of being a consumer of all kinds of art, this is the quality that fascinates me the most. That beautiful moment after the experience when nothing else matters, that elusive state of mind, sometimes difficult to access even after an hour of meditation is so easy to access after such an experience. I guess this is why human beings have been so in touch with all kinds of art. It is not the crores at the end that matter, but this moment of exchange, between the maker and the participant, unknown to each other, but connected by one thing common to us all; life.
It inspires you to create something that honest and that in touch with life. I saw Masaan today and felt like this, recently after a performance based on Begum Akhtar’s life, I was left spellbound and zoned out. A book, a poem anything written with utmost honesty can touch you enough to hi-five your true ‘being’. I chase this experience with as much honesty as the creator of the art. Such an experience cannot be reviewed, it is life and that can only be experienced.
I have heard many people say that artists have a responsibility towards society, I think this is that responsibility; to be so in touch with yourself that you can share that experience with someone else through your work. I look forward to many more moments that push me out of the boundaries of ordinary thought. And wish to I create at least one such experience in this life. If I manage to do that, I will consider this life well-lived, connected with these moments of translucence created by art.
Again and again, however we know the landscape of love
and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,
and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others
fall: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lie down again and again
among the flowers, face to face with the sky.
Rainer Maria Rilke