An End Of Prayers

The most personal of thoughts, the most painful of sufferings, the harshest of words ever heard are not for all to share. It could be shame, vulnerability, embarassment or even quiet strength because of which we, as humans, do not want to reveal; no matter how freeing or cathartic it becomes in the end, after you reveal your self to another.
One of the hardest and unpleasant of all lessons that we learn, no matter how young or old we are, is to never trust anyone. I've seen complete 'angels' shatter people's spirits and talk the most low and crude of filth. It's not their fault, it's just my stupidity and naivete, perhaps of youth or of simply putting faith in others that led me to this understanding. Or perhaps I never paid heed to the proverbial 'leopard not changing his spots' wisdom.
I am a complete non-believer in terms of eternal bliss, love, happiness and all things grand and foreign. Why should I believe? when everything we have can be snatched away in a moment's madness. Am not old and wise, but nor am I stupid and dumb. I havent seen the world but do have enough experiences to know that, all attempts end up bitter. There comes a time when after much praying and trying you know that nothing pretty ever happens, so you just stop wishing and praying altogether. After all this is the only reality to live by. Do not expect anything, and all that happens will hurt less or even not hurt at all.

Fernando Botero: Of Women, Druglords and War Crimes

Last friday, I was casually flipping through the latest issue of British GQ for my monthly dosage of humour and sarcasm while I bumped into the larger-than-life yet realistic images of Colombian artist, Fernando Botero.

A little disclaimer here. His images are not for the faint-hearted or nonchalant, be it his exaggerated nudes or his searingly nightmarish images of the Abu Ghraib incident; each are very powerful.

The first image I saw, was of the artist painting a large nude which was somewhat comical yet sad, all in all something anyone can identify with; not necessarily the size, but the message, shall we say. Can't remember the name of the piece though. Another one was a very dramatic image of druglord Pablo Escobar's death.



There was more to come. Horrific and painful images of the prisoners who were inhumanely tortured and dehumanised mercilessly over and over again at Abu Gharaib during the recent war. I am no art critic or patron but I feel that if an artist's work effects you in some way or the other, be it positive or negative, his work is done. that is the gift to me.



In the words of the artist,

"The power of art is to make you remember something and I hope that will happen with my work," says Botero.
More than remembered, its clearly etched in my mind. Both the traumatic incident and Botero's images. Just like a modern day Guernica, perhaps.

Slate
Botero in Venice
Henryk Broder