Back to the start-II

Its funny how things seem more ridiculous when we’re already through them. Even if someone has only joyous moments for memories, those are bound to make him and her sad.

REFUGE

For a major span of my pre-teenage as well as teenage, I had to be away from my parents & spend my time in solitude. And then I was captured by serious stuff like ‘boogie man’ and hideous monsters, sneaking under my bed, who then gradually grew up to be an auto-phobia. At that point I discovered this old fat book of Russian stories, belonging to my cousin to rescue my withdrawal. This book marks the generation of one of my greatest passions- storytelling. The 2nd object of refuge was music, which my parents considered to be a salient feature inherited from my grandfather. So, my archival object is my own voice and a music diary being a material form of what my grandfather gave me. Congealing these two things together, here I narrate a russian folk tale of ‘Ivanushka’s flute’, a boy passionate about music; through a biscope. Through the ‘frame’ of the peep-hole in the biscope, I intend the viewers to take a flight in the world of stories and music which constitutes a beautiful part of my memories.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_fEKcjMVSs&feature=youtu.be