Soumya takes us to the bohemian lifestyle of his artist daughter and the commune she lived in. An exclusive for Different Truths.

When my daughter opted to study art as a professional subject after school, we knew that we would be introduced to some unconventional lifestyle choices.

A visit to her during her student days when we found her sporting a Mohawk hairstyle confirmed our apprehensions.

After she graduated and started her career as a freelance artist and illustrator, she lived in various parts of India, sometimes with friends, sometimes in remote places in own cottage or hut, and sometimes in various artists’ communes.

Curious About Lifestyle

I was very curious about this kind of lifestyle, but they were out of the way places. And she didn’t quite welcome us saying that we wouldn’t be comfortable in that kind of accommodation and there wouldn’t be other places to stay nearby.

So, when I learned that she was staying in a similar artists retreat in Bangalore, and that there would be an exhibition of live art where her work would be on display and she would be performing, I immediately fixed some appointments in Bangalore to coincide with the time.

On the first day of the exhibition, I turned up at the address, in a tiny apartment of Bangalore on a quiet leafy street and found a nice-looking bungalow with a front lawn and an open gate.

Posters on Display

Posters on display assured me that I’m in the right place, and I walked in among a lot of self-absorbed people talking, smoking and drinking. The men mostly long haired and bearded and the women sporting everything from dreadlocks to crew cuts, wearing what looked like other people’s discarded clothes.

I looked out of place in a business suit, as I had come from a meeting, though I had taken off the tie, but no one seemed to notice.

There were bottles of old Monk lying around and people were drinking out of paper cups. I was passed a cup by someone and told to refill from one of the bottles whenever I wanted.

I asked about my daughter, and they said that she would be somewhere around, and I could go around and look if I wanted.

I went around the various rooms and found some paintings and sculptures on display and some strange gadgets and some screens showing random scenes while more people sat around in animated discussions.

Joint Passed Around

I joined one of the groups and noticed a joint was being passed around and it came around to me quite naturally. After a few rounds the conversation began to make sense.

Someone mentioned designing Durga Puja idols and I declared that my roots were in the land of Durga Puja and started discussing the mythology around the festival. I also shared the fact that I was a visitor to see my daughter who was a resident there.

Now many looked at me in wonder remarking that oh P..’s father, really, as if she was meant to have been born of immaculate conception. They also commented on her talent, and some said that they were her classmates. A bearded gentleman informed me that he was their teacher. I found this interesting, the faculty and students getting stoned together.

There was a very striking looking lady in beautiful ethnic dress and long traditionally braided hair whom I took to be Punjabi, and struck up a conversation, till she turned around and I saw that the other half of her head was shaved off. She turned out to be a Chilean danseuse here to learn Kathak, and with extremely radical political views.

There were others who were into gender fluidity, and I really could not guess their gender leave alone ethnicity.

Bohemian Party

Suddenly, I noticed that my daughter had quietly joined the group, and I felt terribly embarrassed smoking pot with my daughter in a very bohemian party

She finally acknowledged me and showed me around.

I found that people sleep on the floor in any available empty room, many to a room, although there are normally certain places understood to be preferred by some residents and that’s respected. All material possessions are in backpacks left by the walls.

Food was served from a communal kitchen and was basic fare, but various people added various items to the potluck lunch making it a crazy mixture of cuisines.

The various artists tried to explain to me what their work signified, but it all went way over my head, like the joke about the sky.

Two dogs and a cat were also part of the household and sat among the displays like a part of it.

Bizarre Interpretations

In the evening the exhibition was opened to the public and now equally bewildered citizens of Bangalore went around, while I proudly tried to play guide, especially pointing out my daughter’s works and making up bizarre interpretations. 

The highlight of the evening was a musical program where my daughter was the main draw. As she’s a highly trained western and Indian classical singer and was the lead singer in a rock band earlier, I was looking forward to this, though advertised as a new form of music.

I was totally confused as the music appeared to be some strange sonorous chanting. Her friends explained patiently that I must discard all preconceptions about music and arts and experience everything directly with my senses and not the intellect to get it.

I returned with my horizons expanded far more than I had bargained for and kept wondering how over time it’s we who become the wide-eyed innocents and our little babies who become the interpreters of the confusing world around us.

Photos by the author

Soumya Mukherjee

Soumya Mukherjee is an alumnus of St Stephens College and Delhi School of Economics. He earns his daily bread by working for a PSU Insurance company, and lectures for peanuts. His other passions, family, friends, films, travel, food, trekking, wildlife, music, theater, and occasionally, writing. He has been published in many national newspapers of repute. He has published his first novel, Memories, a novella, hopefully, the first of his many books. He blogs as well.

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