This Sunday, everything sparkled after the showers. One thing led to another and I landed at UB City for lunch once more, in the excellent company to two wonderful, chilled out, very charming people.
It is always interesting to see how people react to extreme wealth. Some just walk right past the designer shops as fast as possible looking neither left nor right and then stressfully moan and whine the rest of the evening that they have no money. Others resentfully hiss comments about the fashionably dressed people walking past and then make trite declarations for the rest of the visit: ‘Indian goods are better than foreign’ (yawn), 'happiness is better than wealth' (snore).For a change it was so nice to walk around with friends sans hang-ups. We walked into shops admired pretty things, looked some more and walked on...it was a fun relaxed afternoon.
When I drove back, I passed by these colourful patchwork quilts made by construction workers. Since I had my camera with me, I stopped to take pictures and the little girl happily posed for me. (No, I don’t intend to make an obvious comparison here with the ultra expensive stuff I saw earlier. They are from two very different worlds and there is no need for comparison). These quilts are beautiful and have been instinctively put together with found and leftover scraps of cloth to create a patchwork of gorgeous squares of colour where each piece of cloth sets off the other in its seemingly arbitrary placement. I think the women who made these thoroughly enjoyed the process.
It is always interesting to see how people react to extreme wealth. Some just walk right past the designer shops as fast as possible looking neither left nor right and then stressfully moan and whine the rest of the evening that they have no money. Others resentfully hiss comments about the fashionably dressed people walking past and then make trite declarations for the rest of the visit: ‘Indian goods are better than foreign’ (yawn), 'happiness is better than wealth' (snore).For a change it was so nice to walk around with friends sans hang-ups. We walked into shops admired pretty things, looked some more and walked on...it was a fun relaxed afternoon.
When I drove back, I passed by these colourful patchwork quilts made by construction workers. Since I had my camera with me, I stopped to take pictures and the little girl happily posed for me. (No, I don’t intend to make an obvious comparison here with the ultra expensive stuff I saw earlier. They are from two very different worlds and there is no need for comparison). These quilts are beautiful and have been instinctively put together with found and leftover scraps of cloth to create a patchwork of gorgeous squares of colour where each piece of cloth sets off the other in its seemingly arbitrary placement. I think the women who made these thoroughly enjoyed the process.
It is worth a few minutes of your time to watch this beautiful film sent to me by Jenny Sue.
8 comments:
Beautiful Priya..I believe it is all about the process... and when a beautiful functional article is the finished object, it is the icing on the cake. xo
lovely Priya! Love those quilts.. ! You made an important point about enjoying beautiful things irrespective of the tags and labels and mental associations we allow to bog ourselves down sometimes.. super like !
Thank you Gwen. Yes, I agree with you, when you've enjoyed the process, the end product is indeed the icing :)
Chandan: Very well put my dear and I'm not surprised that this comment is coming from you ;) You've hit the nail on the head. That was exactly the association I was trying to make.
These quilts are a beautiful explosion of colours! Beauty and creativity come in many forms...
And how sweet is that little girl!
that film was nice..thank you
Great post, Priya. And thanks for the film clip. Moving and wonderful. xo
Wow. These quilts instantly reminded me of things my grandmother used to sew out of fabric remnants half a century ago. This made my day brighter. Thanks pRiyA!
Yes, they are wow aren't they? How I would love to see what your grandmother made Tororo. I am wondering if you still have them.
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