For a long time I thought that what I and Marian had done was something unusual: a man living with an older woman. Recently, I came across a book called “Amrita Imroz”. Biography of a similar couple; Amrita is of course the famous novelist and poetess, Amrita Pritam and Imroz is a painter. A beautiful story - written after Amrita’s death. The book is illustrated with black and white pictures and reproductions of Imroz’s paintings. The format of the book reminds one of “The prophet”.
Some quotes would be quite in place:
“Today I have sold a world
And bought a world of beliefs.
I committed an act of blasphemy
I wove a bolt of dreams
Tore off a yard
And sewed a blouse for my life.” (A verse by Amrita)...
The question asked was: why is the man-woman relationship so entangled?.. Imroz answered: A man has learned only to sleep with a woman but has not awakened with her...
Then this verse at the back cover:
When I wrapped myself with your being
our bodies turned inwards in contemplation
our limbs intertwined
like blossoms in a garland
Like an offering at the altar of the spirit..
Our names slipping out of our lips..
Became a sacred hymn..(Adi Dharam by Amrita Pritam)
So, as I live longer, I discover that nothing is new here- everything has already happened- everything has been done by someone or the other..(thanks God!!) ..Spirit picks up the mirror again and again- and seas the same face peering back at it..
So, then, what is creativity? I am beginning to feel that going within - the inward journey for the meanings (not forms) is the only creative thing to be done, after all..
Some quotes would be quite in place:
“Today I have sold a world
And bought a world of beliefs.
I committed an act of blasphemy
I wove a bolt of dreams
Tore off a yard
And sewed a blouse for my life.” (A verse by Amrita)...
The question asked was: why is the man-woman relationship so entangled?.. Imroz answered: A man has learned only to sleep with a woman but has not awakened with her...
Then this verse at the back cover:
When I wrapped myself with your being
our bodies turned inwards in contemplation
our limbs intertwined
like blossoms in a garland
Like an offering at the altar of the spirit..
Our names slipping out of our lips..
Became a sacred hymn..(Adi Dharam by Amrita Pritam)
So, as I live longer, I discover that nothing is new here- everything has already happened- everything has been done by someone or the other..(thanks God!!) ..Spirit picks up the mirror again and again- and seas the same face peering back at it..
So, then, what is creativity? I am beginning to feel that going within - the inward journey for the meanings (not forms) is the only creative thing to be done, after all..
