An itinerant painter, camping in Maharashtra’s pilgrim town at the peak of the COVID-19 outbreak, uses charcoal to convey helplessness, frustration, and fear in the pandemic
Just as Ratjaga is about the loss of definite sleep hours and the abnormal dystopian life thrust on people, it is also about the restoration and reset button
Ratjaga in Hindi or jagar in Marathi point towards Hindu rituals of remaining awake for a Lord or a Goddess. Married women in Maharashtra enjoy such celebratory nights in the honour of Gauri Mata; their counterparts in North India have similar nocturnal fun during teej and dooj observances.
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Painter-poet-photographer Rajesh Eknath, 50, has good memories of such sleep-resistant musical nights, both in his ancestral home at Veni Ganeshpur in Maharashtra, and his current residence in Indore, where he has been living for five decades. Yet, his latest Ratjaga series has little connection with the staple of bhajan-kirtan nights on which he was raised. His series—40-odd charcoal-ink paper drawings—derive its titular significance from the romantic popular qawwali, Saakiya aaj mujhe neend nahi ayegi, suna hai teri mehfil mein rat jaga hain. But, he isn’t portraying a sleepless wait for the lover.
Eknath’s Ratjaga drawings that first started as notebook sketches, lament the sleepless, fearful, frustrated and helpless state he experienced, as a virus paralysed humankind. He, in fact, created them in the first and second phase of the COVID-19 pandemic, a time when he was mostly in Pandharpur. He was accompanying his friend, sculptor Umesh Thakar, who was entrusted with an art project. The duo travelled to Pandharpur, Dehu-Alandi and Akkalkot.
“Ratjaga is about my encounter with famed pilgrim towns that were enveloped in an unusual pall of gloom. Fear was widespread, and the governance systems of these townships seemed to emit a sense of relief, considering the curfew-lockdown norms,” Eknath says of the towns, which before the pandemic, used to host large congregations. It set him thinking about fear-stricken, sleep-deprived depressed souls in every city and village of Maharashtra. He started dwelling on the quiet moments experienced in these flower-laden, incense-filled holy precincts. “Earlier, I always wondered if the people/systems over here needed rest and rejuvenation; of course, one wasn’t expecting the eerie silence that COVID-19 brought in.”
It is a coincidence that Ratjaga has triggered conversations on social media platforms at a time when the Maharashtra government is about to reopen (October 7) places of worship.
Eknath’s charcoal drawings reflect the universal cessation of activity, which points to loss, pain, breathlessness, lack of verve, slowing of reflexes and repetitive patterns of daily chores, which includes panic grocery-shopping. His images catch the COVID-impacted life in abstract ways.
The fragmented forms revolve around living room spaces, floor plans, building clusters, oblique references to the ever-alert media platforms, and the lack of human presence.
Circular and oval shapeshifting amoeba-like black-and-white microorganisms characterise each image; the fast-mutating all-pervasive forms make an ensemble creation. “While the virus is repulsive, it contributes to a distinct aesthetic in the Ratjaga construct. The co-existence of fear, pain and beauty is the soul of Eknath’s charcoal series,” says art historian Shubhalakshmi Shukla, who had included Eknath’s photography works in her Body as Text series three years ago. She says Ratjaga is about the isolated and distanced self in current times.
Painter Rajesh Eknath’s charcoal images catch the COVID-impacted life in abstract ways. The fragmented forms revolve around living room spaces, floor plans, building clusters, oblique references to the ever-alert media platforms, and the lack of human presence
Just as Ratjaga is about the loss of definite sleep hours and the abnormal dystopian life thrust on people, it is also about the restoration and reset button. It is an affirmation of the true rhythm of life that humans have lost because of the self-created “mayajaal”. “When something as basic as sleep and oxygen are beyond reach, we are awakened to the lack in our lives. It pushes us towards natural elements and hopefully, at some point, will connect us to the arts,” says Eknath.
Ratjaga is in one sense a departure from Eknath’s earlier mixed-media work, which was centred on saint poetry. Both his parents were well-versed with abhangs of saints like Tukaram, Dynaneshwar and Kanhopatra. No wonder it reflected in two of his key series, Abhang and Shabdanugat, which were displayed in Chennai and Delhi. “My fascination for the oft-heard verse found an expression on the canvas,” says Eknath, whose abhang-connect manifested in an identifiable pattern till 2015. He has moved on to new media and materials, but saint poetry remains his recourse. Be it his workshops at Bharat Bhavan in Bhopal, or participation in the Silk Route Festival (2002) or visual poetry shared on social media, Eknath’s oeuvre is defined by his belief in Bhakti poetry as a source of strength. It’s also a guiding sentiment in the Ratjaga charcoal drawings, as well as his ceramic sculptures.
Eknath has been an itinerant soul much before COVID-19 struck. His works have been displayed in places as varied as Gwalior, Mumbai, Paris and London. Although a resident of Indore, he has lived in Delhi and Mumbai. He is currently operating from a studio space in Phursungi in Pune. As someone deeply interested in the evolution of villages, towns and cities, Eknath says he has so far embraced life in many homes. He chose to be a guest in Lord Vithal’s abode (Pandharpur) during the lockdown—a memory that will permanently inspire his art.
Sumedha Raikar-Mhatre is a culture columnist in search of the sub-text. You can reach her at sumedha.raikar@mid-day.com
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