
Fluffy rabbit-monsters are all the rage, but Labubus are just assembly-line productions without real personality. In contrast, each of the ugly-pretty creatures made by students of RBANMS school in Bengaluru as part of their art programme seem to brim with character and colour. The mini anthropomorphised sculptures of birds and animals created by class IX and X students are part of the Expanding Imaginations show, curated by photographer Clare Arni, who has been running the school’s arts programme for three years. There’s much else to marvel at—stained glass art, photography, paper craft, all made from recycled materials—but the little monsters steal the show that’s on till Sunday at Sabha BLR.
As a child, I used to chasedragonflies and catch frogs and bring them home to float in a tub of water. But I don’t recall ever marvelling at how exquisite dragonflies were or seeing one in such spectacular colours. I spotted this crimson marsh glider perched delicately on a leaf; its doublewings spread out, diaphanous and iridescentin the bright mid-noon sun. Even a front-row seat to a Victoria’s Secret show with angels strutting down the ramp would not inspiresuch awe. I did google—it threw up a photo of Heidi Klum in similar-coloured pink wings at a 2008 show. Back to the dragonfly: in that moment I felt a certainjoy, that I could capture the insect for those fleeting seconds before it flitted away. I am done chasing.
I went to Byloom in Kolkata last month with a cousin to buy a sari. Frustrated by a million choices (and price tags too), we started scouring the knick-knacks. That’s when I stumbled upon In the Land of Punctuation by German poet Christian Morgenstern, who I later discovered was known for his nonsense verse, much like our own Sukumar Ray. Originally published in 1905 in German, the book was translated in 2009 by writer Sirish Rao, and illustrated by graphic designer Rathna Ramanathan. What happens when punctuation marks go to war? I was most amused by the typographic illustrations of symbols, almost dancing around the length and breadth of the pages, carrying the weight of language with its many breaks and pauses. The book reminds me of all the talk surrounding em dash of late. If only it could fight it out with ChatGPT.
I watched The Nether, a sci-fi crime drama play, at Prithvi Theatre in Mumbai recently, and I’m still reeling. Originally written by American playwright Jennifer Haley, and premiered in California in 2013, the play imagines virtual realms as the future of the internet and the dystopian consequences it leads to. Aasakta Kalamanch produced the play for India in 2024, directed by Mohit Takalkar and featuring actors Neil Bhoopalam, Rytasha Rathore, Vivek Madan, Prajesh Kashyap, and Anjali Negi. A decade ago, the plot may have felt speculative, but today, it feels terrifyingly close to what’s likely to be the reality of our times soon. The story grips harder than any Black Mirror episode. I kept oscillating between marvelling at the sheer craft of the production and shuddering at how real this world is to become in no time.
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