Our glances steady and lock. They follow the slender smoke and wander – against the snowflakes – up towards the sky. There we see a flock of birds, fireworks or the impending dawn. Something starts, something else ends. Was there a melody? Slowly we keep moving. Steps rustle in the branches, lovely monsters join us. We enter, close the eyes. Our breath steadies and the motorcade on the bent highways turns quiet. What we can’t see, we will feel. (Theresa George)
A group of men fixes their eyes on the sky. High above, a flock of pigeons is moving in an unrecognizable formation, when suddenly individual birds drop down mid-air, spinning backwards with their wings extended and tumbling down in a circular motion before resuming their ordinary flight path.… >>>
Childhood memories of my village and current feelings come together. They express themselves as deep love and homesickness.… >>>
That night, a lady met a group of lovely beasts – gigantic, slimy, cheesy ones.… >>>
A mother’s voice guides her son’s hands through the making of a popular Punjabi delicacy called ‘Sarson Ka Saag’, meaning Mustard Greens. Their relationship is maintained over audio notes and some shreds of fond memories. Made on b/w 16mm film, the film uses mustard and spices in its developing process. Physical testaments of mustard leaves and stains from spices form a gastronomical archive.… >>>
A sleeping man dreams of a city at dusk. Or is the city dreaming of him?… >>>