PHOTOGRAPHY, ART WORK & LITERATURE
PHOTOGRAPHY - Heritage - Street - Landscapes
ART WORKS - Sketching Works - Abstract Paintings - Digital Paintings
L I T E R AT U R E WORKS - Article Writing - Story Writing - Poetry Writing
SACRIFICE – AN OFFERING – A RITUAL – A HOAX Flaring streams of ignited lamps wavered in gentle cold breeze, the flame dancing in the darkness and merely lighting the space around. The mist collected on the outer shell of glass cased lamps glittered, scintillating with the flame that dazzled dimly. The uninviting cold surfaced, hustling leaves swept the earth and broke the silences in irregular patterns, crawling through everyone’s feet. Sound of the creaking iron gate, which marked the entry into the compound made every head turn in harmony. A group of four men marched in, bodies wrapped in saffron robes from shoulders to knees while the loose ends waved with the breeze while they walked with synched feet.They resembled each other, forehead painted with a red streak, bald heads with a small ponytail at the back, matching attire and bare feet. They walked through the gathered men, separating and consolidating again to form a single body, followers, believers, being the witness of the ceremony. The man leading the crusade wore a scarf and finally anchored the centre of the ceremonial ground. Others followed him holding an ornate trunk which was covered with a red silk fabric. The base of the trunk was decorated with golden and silver etchings, bolted with a clutch which held a cage. The trunk was diligently placed on a high platform and laid a satin white cloth over it. The elderly man.... Complete Story can be read onwww.theperspectivehub.com
A FESTIVAL A smiling face popped out form a crowd with stained faces and strolled the distance between us to pass by his friends, hugging them, continuously smiling in full content. The street was full of cheerful heads and carefree folk who smiled and laughed at every passing moment. The unending enthusiasm was evident in the air filled with colours. Amidst so many happy faces, it was something else that caught my sight, it was not pretence, it was legitimate happiness in all forms, he was not high. His feet never stopped dancing to the rolling music, his hands played along pretty well and his soul synched with everyone else’s. It was the festival of colours – Holi, he was the happiest soul. Even though I was a total stranger to him, he greeted, leaving me awestruck with the words that came out of his mouth. He said, “Assalaam-u-Alaikum Uncle, Happy Holi!” Bewilderment blew my mind and I asked for his family members if there were any around. It was more than just confusing to know that he was not a part of the society and came here on festivities and days of celebrations. “Make merry on every festival, for the rest of the days paint the world with colours of love and gratitude.” - Anonymous
Complete Story can be read onwww.theperspectivehub.com
STEPS TO MAKE DELHI A GREEN CITY
ARCHITECTURAL INTERVENTIONS TO MAKE DELHI A GREEN CITY - Story of a Formidable City The maneuver would begin with the ferocious history and an outpouring culture of the city, inscribing its character in bold letters. Trudging triumphantly through the rigorous times of relentless monarchs, whose ambition was to unveil the richness of the region and rein in unrivalled domination. Metaphorically, the city was a gold mine which lured numerous greedy sovereigns into its embrace to satisfy their hunger. Politically, economically and culturally, this was the epicenter of function and an emblem of class. The city, not a single embodiment but a consolidate of 14 different segments has a fantasizing timeline to share; with every piece linking and every portion beautifully staged. Till today, as the fate strikes its spell, the city is still the ‘Charismatic Ring’. Capital City of the Indian Sub-continent, the political center, the undeniable charm, the heritage vessel and an affectionate terrain. The city of NEW DELHI. RISING BAR New Delhi has faced tremendous development currents, driving it ahead in becoming an immaculate expression of the nation. New Delhi not only expanded its boundaries to inculcate adjoining cities but also eradicated all the social & economic...
OUR PERCEPTION OF A GREEN CITY OUR PERCEPTION OF A GREEN CITY
We have agreed to move in masked silences, we have agreed to pay no attention, we have agreed to breathe-in the poison, we have agreed to slay the growth of our upcoming generations, we have agreed to die intoxicated! We have agreed. Extra Terrestrial – The landmasses on Earth are turning grey! Is it the evolution of leaves’ colour? In the hassle of creating glittering cities we have literally trodden over the greens on this earth. To be precise, which were available! No matter the efforts are made in the direction of protection and conservation of the city forest zones but is it just to uproot a million and plant a few? In the perspective of today’s minds, the built masses have become the greens of the hour and hence they are getting more priority over the natural ones. It will be unwise and insensitive to suggest stopping the construction, but it has become a fact that development is more sensitive to economic benefits and not in favour of the environment. It is not too far that we would soon face a national crisis or maybe an alarming alert of steep health deterioration. The question of the hour still lingers over my head and stands tall - Are we really making efforts to make this earth a greener place?
Complete Story can be read onwww.theperspectivehub.com
CHERISH THE RELINQUISHED – Forge a Picturesque Story! Cherish, as I would romanticise the niches carved in quartzite; Cherish, as I would lay the imagery of drama that the light played in this colonnaded courtyard; Cherish, as I would praise the engineered channels which quenched the city’s thirst. Cherish, as for us it is still alive. Pacing back to the times when Feroz Shah Tughlaq held the reigns of time and forged Firozabad as the new capital city of Delhi. A fortified enclosure of batter walled structures constructed in rubble masonry & plastered with chunam. The times when cascades played harmonious melodies and oil lamps glittered in the night sky. The times when the pavilions echoed with enchanting refrains and the evenings were spent with the tranquilizing breeze. “I would offer my prayers to the Lord sitting under the sheltered cloisters that part the Jami Masjid’s courtyard. Thanking the Lord for which I exist and for what he plans.” Timur in his book describes that on Fridays, the Jami Masjid accommodated numerous men that there was no left out space. He says, “It used to start from Delhi and marched till 3kos to the fort of Firozabad which stands on the banks of river Jamuna, as it is one of the edifices of Sultan Firoz Shah.” what governs eventually. The formulating society, it’s Traditions, it’s Stories!
HE IS A NATIVE TOO! A Free Man?? Walking through the bright day light; He has his head held low, not a criminal, Neither convicted nor released off bonds! He is a native too but will he ever walk free again? Slouched shoulders, shrunk to their half; Cruel scrutinizing eyes of community’s intellects; Penetrating his soul! Is it his beard or the skull-cap? He ponders! Now the attire defines his diminishing being, or is it just, ‘A Thought’! He is a native too but will he ever walk free again?
Post Script: Muslim citizens are living a dreadful life on the inside and every moment is spent in misery, thinking hard every night if they’ll make it till the morning or not. This community does not fear the threats from other communities, but from people who are ‘Pretentious Believers’ of any particular religion or sect. “All the right ways turn dark when the mind is at rage” – Author As a consequence, in major cases of unrest under religious grounds, communal violence unleashes. Innumerable citizens of any religion are forced to switch their faiths and only then are granted a life, or else, they catch a bullet, die in cold blood, with nothing registered.
It’s the tormenting stereotypical society, Breaking him apart, crushing him down; Lashed with silent words; He is now wounded, torn & miserable! He crawls, carefully passes along shadows; His existence is now on a run. He is a native too but will he ever walk free again? Stumbled, head struck the Mimbar, stained red; Seeking forgiveness! The heart feels despaired, The crashed soul is too weak to outlast; Lost his identity, he is no more on the inside; Forced to be an intellect, chained down! Will he ever breathe, Will he ever walk free again?
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IT’S A STRUGGLE It’s a struggle, not a War, they say it aloud; We’ll forge the future of our fraternity, they say it aloud; A brighter day awaits, a brighter sun is yet to shine, They say it aloud. The flaring heat turned their skin inside out; Eyes popped out of confusion followed by despair; They had similar thoughts & notions, Concepts & Ideologies, Beliefs. How fraternity & disfavour joined hands? We’ve saved the believers, set an example, Believe, It’s a struggle, not a War! A fleet, feet soaked with gore, marked the trails; Impressions of sacred scripts dipped in false calls; Is the judgement day in jeopardy? Ludicrous? Or false? Will the judge go bias, convinced? When they say it aloud; It was a struggle, not a War! The believers must know, this is an execution, Of fraternity, of equality, of sanity, humanity. For he, who has created all, might pluck out their tongues, So they keep calm; And not shout loud ever again, as; It is not a struggle, It is a War! A day awaits, in our conscience or dream; Leaving the earth barren again, cleared; That too will turn our skins inside out, souls flying, Inevitable.
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POST SCRIPT
It has been a journey an array of struggles and a labyrinth of thoughts. Middling through the course of confusion and road blocks, passing through the lanes of uncertainity and eventually hitting a dead end all together. The effort and struggle has remained intact as the time has passed. It has been more than an year now since I started working on this manifest of my understanding of art, photography and poetry. It has certainly been a long run but I delightfully feel good for the outcome. The manifest is a shorter and compliant version of the complete discourse. For more pieces of Art Works Instagram Handle - @humairsubhani For more piece of Poetry Instagram Hande - @build_it_up_again For more works of Literature/Article Writing www.theperspectivehub.com