भोर भई .. (Bhor Bhayi)
We are entitled to walk through the life, abide to create journeys of our own while our body travels, a part of our soul sunder in each step. Marriage or Voyage, Knowledge or Business, there have been times in each of our lives where we leave. Leave our places, belongings, people we love and keep walking through the time.
”Bhor bhayi” is a windy take on today’s brides. It is about celebrating the upcoming while reminiscing the past, about adoring what the nature beholds and chasing one’s dreams through every dusk and dawn. There is nothing holding her back and nothing is forlorn.
I have a profound eagerness to connect life with pictures and vise-versa. Weaving narratives to the art I create is always my intense desire. When I decided to perform few test shoots for my portfolio, which by the way holds a great importance in any stylist’s life, I started collecting things and thoughts that strike a chord within me. One of the foremost was my mother’s sarees. I would like to believe that there is an undeniable force of love that rushes to every Indian girl’s heart for her mother’s trousseau especially her meticulously preserved sarees through ages. So there I was, perusing through my mom’s hidden cupboard standing at the extreme corner of our house inside the storage room. Then came the पेटी (my grandmother’s old silver box) with a hook to put separate locks. It bore the marks of countless journeys where she use to secure her jewellery and money in this डब्बा (Box). It was literally passed down to us as an inheritance from my grandmother. Further I found this bygone era tiffin box in yet another hidden kitchen treasure of my mom. And here I was, sitting and starring at these pieces fancifulizing my shoot. Later in the process I wrote a small poem that can serve as a window of my imagination leading you into the depths of my creative vision. Below is that poem - माँ कहती थी दूर जा रही हो, मैं कहती रही नहीं। माँ कहती थी बोहोत याद आएगी, मैं बस सुनती रही। वो दरवाज़े के पार एक आसमान था जो पुकारता रहता था,तब दरवाज़े के भीतर की दुनिया बोहोत छोटी सी लगती थी। माँ पूछती थी की फिर साथ कब रहोगी, मैं कल कहती रही। देहलीज़ से पार कुछ कम ही कदम चले थे बस,ज़िन्दगी को किताबों के पन्नों सा कब-कब में पलटती रही । चली, रुकी और फिर चलती रही। माँ कहती थी दूर जा रही हो, मैं कहती रही नहीं। 
