Creative geniuses are seldom lauded as much as their creations. Charles Dickens is more popular than Mark Twain, Mona Lisa than Vinci and more so the Peacock throne, the Charminar, the list is quite endless. But then thats what art yearns to do. To live beyond its creators and then to direct its own flight. And that’s probably what makes it divine.
As artists live in oblivion, some are lucky to be lauded soon after they’re gone. Van Gogh wouldnt have even imagined that his ‘SUnflowers’ would go on and be the highest grosser. But then would he have cared? The high of creating something is the reward. Period.
So then whats the point of my ramble? Well nothing at all, its just hoping that one gives a lil regard to a thing created, not copied, not manipulated, but created. The original thinker may be ahead or behind one’s time, but the point lies in the originality. A poor original versus a good copy you say? Well then that’s not art, its craft.
The artist only wishes that he gets to see his work, appreciated a lot, criticized a little, never ignored and never praised beyond mention, moreover to see it free. To see it saved. That’s what its about, immortality. To see that the piece of sculpture/art/architecture becomes a memory, creates a thought, inspires an idea and sparks communication.
Shiraz hasn’t become a house-hold name, the Taj has. It has done its master proud.
Well, about the Taj Mahal, if you said Shah Jahan youre certainly wrong.