“Our house is our corner of the world“-Bachelard. Our houses in a true way shape our senses. A spectre of memories lingers in our houses, every door knob, every corner in our house has something associated with it—the first crack in the wall, the gentle light falling from the windows. I remember the time in childhood when you’re oil-massaged and put under the sun streaming into a room through windows.
Objects—a crumbled wall, a natural cookie on the wall, a drapery look given by the leaves with the sun above the head, the motherly-put things around and in the house, or the light falling from the windows on the wall to wall carpets every afternoon. In this Zeitgeist era, I’m trying to form visuals of simple things– which all of us should gradually look into and notice what we have been missing in our hectic daily life.
In this series “ordinary things” I try to explore tiny findings which over a period of time have added to the aesthetics of a home. In our overtly aesthetic, visually exaggerated world we often forget about simple things around us.
This image is influenced by many things but primarily one: these are the boots used for gardening to weed out the ‘colonialist‘ shrubs which grow roots in the middle of the garden and slowly and slowly wane the growth of surrounding plants.
This photo is of garlanded sun-dried bottle gourd (Al Hatche), only to be used in harsh weather and in harsh times. I call it a “resistance” vegetable, it stays there to feed you even if you’re locked inside for years.
This is a homemade broom (Ma’zen), it’s used to sweep outdoor paths muddied by the boots.Talking about the homemade broom will be no more there with the rise of plastic brooms.
Koech – grain store, is a safe house for grains. Usually made of wood, it can store grains for months. People say the grains vanish if it gets a lot of eyes.
Grains are dried under the sun to store them later for months. These are grains piled up in gunny sack bags after keeping them under the sun.
These photos talk about simple yet meaningful moments from my everyday life. They’re seemingly mundane, yet beautiful – capturing these little fragments feels like the growing pressure of modernity piercing our roots.
I come from a place which is famous for its soil, a special kind which was used to paint the walls now and then, it’s called “sayper”. My grandmother always talks about it when there is a discussion on what colour palette to choose for walls.
This essay is personal, it documents spaces of my home which I know won’t be there in the next few years.
