Fundamentally,
Hussain was a deeply rooted Indian. Having two selves, is something uniquely
Indian among India's minorities. His sense of being was of a deeply imbued
Indianness replete with its deities and iconographies. No matter what may be
said of what he should or should not have done, Hussain in this sense was a
manifestation of Indian culture and was suffused in it. That is the point that
cannot be discounted. His was not an objectified self. He was a social
construct, a unique expression of Indian culture and how it permeates us all.
Early
on Hussain took a position, essentially moving from becoming, towards being a
brand, a manifestation that enthralled and fascinated Indians with its
potentiality of what an artistic existence meant. He set himself a trajectory—a
high-wire reality, while believing it "unlikely that any particular
incident will have any influence" on him, since he drew inspiration from
"everything under the sun." This gives us a tiny sense of how he
perhaps viewed the idea of influences and impacts—which affects all artists.
The mark of a person who wishes to zealously set himself apart from others. He
oozed the very notion of culture, and projected strength in all that he did and
touched.
Where
did he get his chutzpah—that nawabi mien, that Indians across the spectrum saw
and gushed over, and in recent years many disdained the object of their
adulation. A maverick that had to be branded! Did he regard anyone as a
significant mentor, Souza perhaps? Or did he consider himself as an entirely
self-made entity. Or were there a range of factors that only a few know? These
questions do dovetail his artistic reach, his acumen, the subjects he painted
over the decades, his singularity, force of will, as also being closer to the
ground sans footwear.
Although
much has been made of his intellect, his work was far from complex, in fact
very accessible. A contradiction? Or, one was having the ability to work in a
"getable" vein? Perhaps both. Yet Hussain walked his walk, he talked
his talk; opening himself up to opportunities where he engaged with other
artists, students and Indians. His body of work embraced the idea of
Indian—vast as it is. He thought big. He was an artist of many hats, including
to many—a political artist. Many consider it imperative to apply to Hussain the
sobriquet "Picasso of India,' but Hussain's most relevant contribution to
Indian modernity would be that by living his unique artistic act, He gave
Indian artists a primer in branding themselves with an artistic spine, and the
much cherished reach.
Then
tragedy visited in waves. The banishment! Was it forced or self-imposed? Exile.
Forces arrayed themselves against him in mind and spirit. A forced exile, as it
is seen in most corridors of silence. Qatar received him. India was down by one
of its sons.
Art
is a peculiar beast with its connotations and denotations. In a country where
the idea of common law is still not enforced—other issues will get complicated.
But yet we all wish for our interstice of modernity, alongside our spiritual
underpinnings.
"I'd like to die like a soldier with the boots on," he
had said. Perhaps it was a mere turn of phrase, or a churning of words? In that
regard Maqbool Fida Hussain was a sipahi, a sentinel of the Indian avant-garde
to Indian mores and exuberance. He is no more but yet there will be many
Hussains’ of the mind. He was one and many, like the proverbial Kokopelli.
Mysterious and magical. Time will reveal more, but for sure each of us has a
Hussain in and of our minds.
