It is hard to recall the time, when with some of my friends we chatted on to the boat, near to a berth bank of the Burigonga river. It was in the middle of the day, somebody lay down and somebody relaxed to pass away a silent moment, then one of us just started the story; that was an experience- he drove into a memory! Without hesitating we joined his party, because we had no reason to stop us and we kept floating with the story!
The memory of the story spread its wings like a flying bird in a sunshine sky; when people are dozing & the only lonely river is alive with joy. One noon in these days my friend became a consort of Waterman to cross the hyaline river. On that mass of the noon they were surrounded by water. Through the horizon, only the Waterman, himself, the boat, and the sun were visible. An incorporeal emptiness surrounded them when they looked at one another; then suddenly a phenomenal advent was in there! Waterman left the paddle on the boat, let it float and move free in the middle of the river and he just sat face to face with our friend. Within a blink of an eye the Waterman took the notebook of poetry and asked the pen of my friend with a gentle movement. While going through the surprising time the notebook gets returned to my friend, where he found a childish drawing all over the page. Waterman draws his story; no, actually he wrote it. Marginal people of our country used to say- they are writing picture rather than drawing it, because through the drawing they told us their stories and feelings as well!
Waterman explained his story of drawing, which is a childish line form of the splendid moon like a boat, a seated figure onto the boat as himself and circular form of the sun of his own initiative, keenly that-‘he wants to go beyond the Sun.’
Indeed, from his own world, merely the boat, the sun and only he himself just into this unfathomable water flow, what else can be a possible form in his mind! Ofcourse those are the obvious forms of his written images. Whether we could understand it or not, that does not matter and we are helpless in this event. That was more real for the Waterman. Maybe not for us.
This story of memory took an important part of this event, its anamnesis again. In the meeting of Dhaka Art Project I replied to Sabya that ‘I don’t know’, when she asked my group. I skipped from the challenge of Martijn to find a group. Until then I had no Idea, what I could do, but one thing was in there; it should be found in the relationship with the people. As Martijn said, as Sabya with all other contributors thinks; to know others, it’s important to develop a relationship first, as the story of memories witnesses.
Waterman from the memory just disclosed cursive twist end of the relation. For the project of creating from relationship I prefer not to draw by myself, they have the right to draw their own dream and life, the people whom which I will go to meet…
Sumon / Art can eat