Railways and Art: Wheels within wheels now!
Railways and Art: Wheels within wheels
now!
I
am an officer of Indian railways for the last 35 years. Yet, the drama of a
moving train truly hit me one hazy, and lazy, evening between Hindupur and
Bangalore. It was on a routine ‘window trailing inspection’. You see, the end
wall of an inspection carriage, commonly known as the saloon, has glass
lookouts, affording a very graphic view of the track and stations behind a
speeding train. A Railway officer sits looking out for whatever he intends to
check. I for one would do it frequently for the sheer fun, the ‘feel good’ as
you moved through exhilarating images of life.
I
have read, many times in some form or the other, that locomotives and trains
were magnificent, if disturbing creations. Sensational things that became a
subject of art in almost every conceivable form, right since their inception
some 200 years ago. One can easily understand how a technological marvel, born
out of the genius of the human mind, would appeal to the western mind. The
subject was sure to inspire great creations.
Sipping
a cup of coffee, smoking a cigarette, looking out at the unfolding drama in
vast fields, village roads, wayside stations and so on, with the repetitive
sound of the train in background, what stuck me was not the romance of the
moving train itself but the magic of the Indian way of life. Not the staid
scenes one would see in a western country but fascinating scenes of great
excitement. Little joys. Pathos and poignancy. Trite and trivial but at once
moving. Desolate here and crowded there. Tender and robust. Struggle, exertion
and sloth. Simple yet complex.
I sat bewitched and bewildered. What am I doing, drinking all this in and doing nothing about it?
Art
must imitate life!!
That
was years ago. After a drier stint in Germany, which offered many an
inspiration but hardly a canvas, I am back in familiar surroundings. In the
Rail Wheel Factory (RWF) at Bangalore. A truly artless industrial setting.
Could another journey begin here?.
Dressed in fire-proof suit, which bears him a resemblance with an astronaut, a workman stands erect, facing a brutally red hot wheel, with a thin torch like thing in his hand, working on this wheel, unbearable warmth, despite heavy flow from an industrial fan. I saw many spectacles on my first day in RWF, but this image persisted. I was told that the man was doing something called Sprue washing. This single image was soon supplemented and complemented by a plethora of everyday visuals in the factory. It soon inspired me to start the journey immediately. I had a unique canvas.
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