the endless small adjustments of balance
is affected by the shifting weight of
beautiful things I grew up in a single
room house in a modest old deli
neighborhood while I did my schooling
from an institution catering to the
elite each day ever since I can remember
provided me with star contrasting
experiences this everyday contrast made
me vulnerable it also made me an
introvert I found refuge in the world of
books and stories after a brief stint as
a student of engineering and physics I
majored in philosophy from the Delhi
University in 2009 the study of
philosophy had left me with many
questions and I need to find my answers
I had to go out and also look within the
camera became my companion and over the
next nine years I traveled through the
length and breadth of this country
making many handmade books and in them I
documented the stories and the lies that
touched me what I share here is a
glimpse into my inner and my outer
worlds this is how my book making
apparatus looks looks like I basically
make handmade books I make my books on
my own I buy the paper I buy the thread
i buy the glue I make everything
together what I basically do is I travel
with this apparatus wherever I’m going
and I make a little book around that
place the reason I do that is because
you know for me it was just not enough
to buy an existing copy or a notebook
and put put my pictures in that I really
wanted to understand what bookmaking is
about I really wanted to understand the
rigor that goes into it so I have always
delved into memories of my childhood
things and objects that held my
imagination and I’ve sort of channelized
it into my practice this particular book
is inspired by the quintessential gift
box that I saw as a child in many
cartoons this book borrows its form from
the tippy tippy top toe that I’m sure
many of us played during our childhood
all right so amongst the many journeys
that I undertook this is the one that I
would like
share with you in in some kind of detail
so in 2011 I was commissioned to
photograph a hospital in Jaipur and the
hospital housed a hospice known as the
Ovid Nash room I used to visit the
hospice often to make photographs and
during one such visit I found this
drawing copy which had 32 drawings of
the mountains done by some child but the
but the notebook in itself was nameless
it got my attention I was intrigued by
the object and I decided to hold on to
it so for the next few weeks I tried to
find the owner of this notebook who
could this child be what was this child
doing in the hospital how can I find
this child but due to stringent privacy
policies I was not allowed access to the
hospital records
I spoke to everyone at the hospital the
patients the star of the attendants but
no one seemed to know anything I
realized that the book revealed very
little the answers I was seeking lay
outside its pages so basically what I
did was to sort of give closure to my
curiosity and the restlessness that took
over me while going through this
nameless drawing book I decided to
travel through the mountains and make
photographs inspired by these 32
drawings so what you see on the left is
the drawing and on the right is my
response my photograph as a response and
I kept traveling I kept traveling I kept
traveling a travel through the country
just looking for photographs that would
sort of be the right response or would
be the right sort of food have that
inspiration from these drawings while on
the hospital front I kept looking for
the child I had nearly given up when I
finally met Asha a nursing intern who
told me that she sort of attended to a
child who was really really fond of
drawing and with Ash’s help
I traced the child to a village to a
remote village in this district in
Rajasthan called barren barren so after
a few weeks I left for Barton and I
reached the village and I was directed
to chocolates house chocolate was a
cousin of the girl’s father
shaukat informed me that her name was I
nee and I nee basically isn’t heard the
word which means spring the source of
life and she passed away in January
thousand twelve the family had left the
village after her death I never seen a
man who had died even before I found her
notebook closure became really essential
and the only way I could find it was to
trace the girls family and I again took
shocked itself and after months and
months of traveling through North India
I located them in an industrial estate
on the outskirts of Delhi
I met Anwar I knees father and we met
twice and on both occasions he was drunk
he was still had that self loathing and
guilt yet in his drunken confessions he
drew the most intimate portrait of any
one that only a father would know so he
called a sharkpoon and I asked him what
does that word mean he said that the
name in itself has no meaning he just
loves the sound of it a name without a
meaning is like a poem which is free
from the burden of explaining itself
according to Anwar I knees drawings were
never about the future but never about
her aspirations to travel to the
mountains it was an acceptance of the
fact that she will never ever get to see
the mountains we spent two days together
and at the end of it and WA gave me her
crayons her doll and the only photograph
he had of her I hope her story is told
were unversed last words to me that
evening in 2015 this for your long
journey culminated into the artist’s
book this world of do it is a solid kyon
loss and remembrance a young child’s
longing for the mountains and a
photographer search for that child who’s
abandoned drawing book he found in a
hospice what I share next is a glimpse
into the book I made which has I nice
drawings my photographs as a response
and the diary entries I made across four
years that’s I near cinnabon oh and she
is almost as old as you are probably and
here or two younger she was making these
drawings when she was an 8 year old kid
and she perhaps passed away by the time
she was 12
now I knees death serves as a reminder
that we are not born equal all of us are
not born equal but her life her work is
a testimony to the power of imagination
she lives on in my mind in your mind
the minds of everyone who has turned the
pages of this book
ina and I made a book together
I consider that book to be equally hers
as it is mine but we never met we did
not know each other but as long as
there’s space for wonder and belief in
our life as long as we do not lose our
ability to empathize and love stories
will be continued to be told and they
will be heard and honestly in this day
and age of information in this day and
age of mad senseless competition in this
day and age of rat race the pursuit of
knowledge is where the promise of beauty
and who presides this is the last this
is the last the back jacket of the book
I made across nine years and to me what
is written on the spine has been a
guiding principle and I was exactly in
your stage about 10 12 years ago when i
when i read this beautiful text from an
article by p choir and i read out that
line for you
it says sometimes things that we least
understand deserve our deepest trust
thank you
[Applause] you