Art Ichol Journal

Poetics of Passion
I recall well that day, almost two decades ago, when Ambica - ‘Didi’ to me, asked
me if I would like to be part of her gallery operations in Delhi. Needless to say, my
response was in the affirmative and none other ever crossed my mind. Such was my
connection with her soon after I married her brother Vivek, and became part of the
family.
The unspoken bond has just grown and I cherish this opportunity to express all
that I was witness to in sharing the magic of those innumerable, impassioned
conversations with Didi, voicing her wish to build an artists’ village sometime in
her life. Knowing her, I somehow knew she would do it. What might appear surreal
to the rest of us, she has always had it in her to realize and bring into being. It was
no surprise then, when she told us of the land she had started acquiring in the
vicinity of Maihar - the beginning of Art Ichol, as we see it today.
photo credit: gopika nath
Things have just flown since the first signs of making an arts centre became clear. It
has been like a river charting its course along an unforeseen terrain. I have seen the
proverb, “God helps those who help themselves”, come to life through her steely focus
and faith in her chosen path.
Sanjiv Bhaiya, Aditya and Anshuman have stood beside her like anchors, holding
and letting go, as and when required. Papa, my father-in-law was the obvious choice
as architect. Didi has always been a fan of his architectural genius. Not just her, we
all are. His designs are timeless and his precision and detailing unmatched. Papa
was stationed in Maihar for almost three years and he is now fondly called ‘Papaji’
by everyone there. His short, compulsory trips to Delhi were few and then too
only to silence his daughter’s frequent chiding that he visit his family back home.
Notwithstanding his longing to meet his grand-daughters in Delhi, his longing to
return to Maihar and his work there was always more than apparent in his singsong
pronouncements to us when he said: “Main kal Maihar jaa rahaa hoon!” where
‘Maihar’ was pronounced with a rising lilt. Here in Delhi, we faced endless queries,
jokes and jibes at his disappearance and appearance. His long, white beard would
invariably elicit: “Sadhu ban gaye hain kya?” Ma would get a bit disturbed when