Sadness in the eyes. Sadness in the way they looked. Sadness in which they congregated. Nude without recrimination or shyness, but the eyes hiding what their bodies did not. Even she looked into me with eyes which questioned, poised as she was, in the midst of her creation.
Was pain her first and last companion? The love she gave, the first and last symbol of the pain she carried inside of her? But why? She had the world at her feet, lovers who also loved her. Were those who seeked her closeness claustrophobic to her? Was that village lady, in a siesta, with her legs askance, almost in rebellion, actually Amrita? And was every person she took inside of her, merely her attempt for them to read the words etched inside her heart of what she were searching for, but never found.
When someone has everything, often the only wealth she seeks is what could fill the emptiness inside.
(On seeking the world of Amrita Sher-Gill in NGMA, New Delhi on 2nd February, 2014)
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