Razaai: Talking through Art

Sarah Khan, Class of 2021

A razaai, or quilt, is threaded together by lines of ethnic stitching, exuding a unique aesthetic and familiar warmth. Ketan Jain’s project Razaai is not too different.

At its core, Razaai is about dynamism. “We don’t call our events ‘projects,’ we call them ‘processes,’ because we don’t want to think of them as singular events dislocated and isolated; they are continuous and changing in tune with the conditions around us” explained the founder, Ketan Jain (UG 19). Organizer Sufi Dharma (UG 20) elaborated: “We don’t want to make this a thing that we proudly put on our CVs. The reason why Ketan struggles with saying, ‘Oh, I made this thing,’ is because it’s not a thing. It’s not defined; it’s meant to be continuously expanded upon.”

Razaai’s first workshop broached questions of identity. “I asked everyone to depict in what way they wanted their identities to be looked at. Then I asked them to tear it apart. I gave them another sheet of paper and I told them to make a collage. The idea that your identity is perceived a certain way might never happen. But you’ll always be engaged in the process, so appreciate the process” said Ketan.

They conducted a second workshop with Neev for children from Asawarpur. “The first thing they did was give themselves a name because they addressed each other by their last names which often refers to their caste, so we wanted to create a space where that sort of derogatory behaviour does not interfere with the learning environment.” As for the activity, it took some initial effort to prompt them. “The idea was to depict their favourite part of the day. We were trying to tap into their idea of their identity,” said Sufi. “They were used to a very old-fashioned way of doing art. When we told them to make their favourite parts of the day, they created a house, mountains, a lake, and a sun — like we all did. But once we prompted them a little bit, they went crazy. We had interesting conversations and mad artwork. This one guy actually picked up a flower and glued it on his sheet of paper with some paint,” said Sufi.

On 20th November 2018, Razaai conducted its fourth workshop as part of their series Talking Through Art. Held in SH2 TV lounge, the theme for the event was Course of Life (aka CV). “I haven’t booked this room because the effort is to keep our events in communal and collaborative spaces where anyone can come and join in,” explained Ketan. The space was minimally done up: a razaai lay on the ground encircled by fairy lights at the centre of which were numerous art supplies. A mix of rock and jazz played in the background as the organisers, Ketan, Sufi, and Aayushi Deshpande (ASP 19), welcomed people. A modest turnout of eight to ten students lent the event a cosy and informal air.

A round of introductions followed, and we began with the activity. We were requested to carry a hard-copy of our resumes, and were directed to engage with them through a series of exercises: highlight the work we loved, strike off what we hated, and finally, point arrows on the timelines to add what we wish we had done.

The results were enlightening, amusing, and paradoxical. The highlights ranged from donating the proceeds of a photography exhibition to a philanthropic organization to building an art portfolio; teaching the underprivileged to achieving proficiency in Spanish and Urdu. The strikeouts were the usual suspects: SATs and student council, MUNs and blogging, learning Kathak and violin. “I cut out all my skills and interests because I felt they were tailored for someone else,” said a first year.

The wish list is where imagination soared. “Produce a music event, write a book, intern with Google, had a 20-year teaching career already…” enumerated a tongue-in-cheek Ketan. Others echoed similar sentiments: music, theatre, drums, travel, public speaking. “I wish I made an entirely different resume for art school instead of Ashoka,” yearned a first-year. “I wish I read all Ruskin Bond novels,” shared another. Unconventional longings intensified: “Minoring in Satanism, although I’m rethinking it.” We concluded the activity with a conflicting statement that epitomised our love-hate relationship with Ashoka, rousing a collective sigh of sympathy: “I highlighted Ashoka. I struck out Ashoka.”

We were then instructed to hand over our resumes to the person sitting next to us. And destroy it. Surprised, amused, disappointed, we set to achieve destruction in the most creative way possible: painting a rainbow over it, crafting a boat from it, or simply crushing and crumbling it.

The overall exercise was revelatory and cathartic. The introspection and subsequent destruction was both an act of rebellion as well as the reinvention of the interplay of personal desires and educational standards. In that moment, we felt an elevated spirit of autonomy; we had redefined our sense of self rather than let it be dictated by society. Expanding on this idea of autonomy, Sufi Dharma said, “It’s the reality we’re trying to understand, so it’s better we arrive at it, rather than someone telling us this is how it is and now you look for it.”

Razaai is not very different from the quilt we are familiar with. It threads together strands of the political and personal in a kaleidoscope of colour through music, self-reflection, and expression. As Ketan summarised, “We don’t think of politics in an emotional way, in a personal way; in terms of art, in terms of the literature we read, or in terms of the media we consume. Razaai was born out of the effort to connect those two realms: the political and the personal.” To the beat of the music, amid chatter and quips, it channels the artist and the activist in us — comforting us and challenging us at the same time.

Razaai is working on a collaboration with the Psychology Society, they plan to hold an exhibition at the Ashoka Literature Festival, and collaborate with YIF’s on an ELM project titled “philARTtropy” aimed at conducting art workshops with the children in Asawarpur. As for Talking Through Art, Ketan has started to curate the artwork, produced during the workshops, across the campus.

Razaai is looking for more collaborators and contributors from the spheres of media and arts, inviting students for conversations and ideas. However, the founders remain hesitant to structure Razaai into a “thing.” “It’s never going to be one thing. You can take it wherever you want.”

The author is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture column of the Edict.