I have short sight. Hence there was a point while growing up when I thought , what I saw was how everything actually existed. Hazy, blurred, distant and harmless. Too bad that reality strikes, you are given spectacles, and forced to see harsh lines, clear boundaries and piercing views.
Being an architecture student, when a design is in its process I realize that it is the most beautiful and the most potent ,when the lines are still not clear and when one is at a point where we play hide and seek with glimpses of ‘what will be’ in the ‘what is’ .This then generally drags forward into the realization of the design where the ‘what will be’ starts fading out before the ‘what is’. That I feel is the dead end!
Van Gogh s skies are an infinity of a collective haze. A homogenous haze constituting a myriad of tiny clear and real brush strokes. It seems as though the strokes exude a force that gel into the canvas , wholly yet fragmented. This smudging of life , this unclearness of the seen can take one on fantastic tangents.
An alaap can very beautifully mould the words or the bol around it and within it so that what we hear is not words in notes. We hear unchained melody . I have a personal favourite tape of Veena Sahasrabudhe s Bhopal todi raag sung in concert in London. It melts so beautifully with the morning , waking you up gently from the confusion of your dreamy slumber as it progresses from a warm vagueness into the freshness of the day..
A cynic may call it the convenience of the unclear. I have no argument against it. But then I revel in this convenience; To take off the glasses and see the world as a blur of visions , as a painting, fueled by a palette of sounds!