Reflection is a return of light or sound from a surface. It’s an idea or sign of something, or it also means serious and careful thinking about something. When we think about the term ‘reflection’ in terms of art or creative expression, we consider art forms as the reflection of inherent social structures and cultural practices. These reflections presented through different artistic media attribute specific meaning to the everyday life, beliefs, values and ideological positions. As we focus on ‘प्रतिबिंब /Reflection for the ninth edition of Hakara Journal, one wonders where does the idea of reflection emerge from and what implications does it have in terms of creative expression. That brings me to a few questions. Does the mirror image exist independent of our consciousness, of our sensations, and outside of us? Or does it actually re-present our consciousness by engaging with the material reality? 

To begin with, the idea can be thought of in terms of the ‘self image’ as we understand or perceive ourselves through our image in the mirror. What interests me here is the idea that one understands oneself by turning the self into an object or imagining an image that does not exist in reality but captures the essence of what you are and creates possibilities of understanding or perceiving the self. Here, the person recognises herself as the other and this fragmented body image forms a totality. As can be viewed on a reflecting surface, the fragmented self can also be visualised in the other person. Purvi Rajpuria’s story ‘Ekdum Mirror Image’ in this edition addresses the dilemma of a daughter’s individuality in relation to her mother’s identity. The daughter’s struggle to move away from her mother’s personality to establish her own finally makes her realise the inseparable nature of their co-existence. 

Although, the mirror image creates an in-between space, a placeless place as the existence is real, yet the reflection in the mirror and our presence there, is unreal and virtual. This co-occurring of absence and presence produces ‘a simultaneous mythic and real contestation of the space in which we live’. Vikki Nanda’s piece takes an overview of mythological representations and etymological overtures of ‘reflection’ through depiction of different personalities and narratives in paintings, film, and literature. He juxtaposes the act of reflection i.e. deep contemplation with the actual image in the mirror as  complimenting each other, and yet can be seen independent of each other. 

The question that remains here is whether reflection shows us the true image or does it distort our perception of reality? We perceive ourselves through this mirror image but also in relation to the ‘normal’ image of oneself determined by the cultural environment. In reality, the self is conjured up in its multitude as proposed by Priyanka D’souza in her ‘Medusa’s Mirror’ as she connects with artistic practice that engages with a disabled body. The self-reflection by a number of artists including the author in the form of self-representation in their art works creates a discontinuum in the widely ‘accepted’ idea of a normal and desired body. It questions the social ‘gaze’ or normalised ways of seeing as the sight is always privileged over other senses in the visual studies. The question of gaze or seeing brings me back to the notion of the self as reflected in a mirror and how it is connected with the larger social and cultural context.

While contemplating on the idea of mirror image as reflection, we have to mull over how blind people perceive the world around them and the self. Hence, it is something more than the mirror image that shapes the reflection as well as ideas such as the self. This ‘more’ is constituted of the other, the collective and the societal. Oscillating between the self and the collective, the visual narratives in this edition showcase artists’ personal engagements with their larger contexts and how they express their reality in visual forms. Through his photo series Upside Down, Ajay Sharma articulates reflection as visual and conceptual explanation. His photo documentation of post-monsoon floods in Baroda captures the mundane with a contemplative mood in the form of moments of revelations in these inverted images of the surroundings. Engaging with the transforming urban spaces with watercolour and brush, Ashish Kushwaha’s surrealist landscapes narrate the stories of contestation between the natural and the man-made. Moving towards a dystopian landscape, his compositions in the form of ‘Urban Metaphors’ evoke a sense of melancholy and dejection.

Reflection is also looking back, revisiting the past and thinking seriously in retrospect. Yet, it allows us to imagine a future, an alternative, a subversive moment. It is a personal as well as a collective phenomenon. The manifestation of this simultaneous process is evident through many artistic expressions. This process produces a dialectical image, a constellation of disparate fragments of historical experience that reveals the underlying tension between time and space providing an insight into various stories of human labour, the everyday, environment as well as oppression and resistance. Translated by Anuj Deshpande, the conversation between Sudhir Patwardhan and Prajna Desai in this edition probes into the artistic journey of the artist contemplating on his propositions and engagements  either familial, social or artistic. We print this conversation in conjunction with his retrospective exhibition at the NGMA where curator Nancy Adajania eloquently articulates on Patwardhan’s multi-layered concerns by ‘suggesting artist’s simultaneous movement into a reflective interior space of stillness and an outer world of social relationships and travel.’ While locating his ideas of the individual and the collective in relation to his understanding of ideological positioning and its precariousness, Patwardhan represents moments of crisis and violence in his works. These moments may not be the ‘real’ moments, yet, they narrate layered stories from multiple perspectives. 

How does one reflect on the moments of crisis? How do artists, writers, and philosophers respond to such moments? As ‘human crisis’ becomes a predominent thought in our times, Albert Camus’ 1946 speech comes in handy as it delves into the idea of collective consciousness. Translated by Omkar Govardhan, Camus’ speech echoes our ongoing quest, the struggle for humanity. For him philosophy or literature are a reflection of grave reality around us. So what he does instead of talking about philosophy is that he engages his audience in four stories that unfold various perspectives of French society. The relevance of his speech today is astonishingly appropriate. As Camus reflects on the crisis in human behaviour on a larger scale, his speech presents a possibility of producing an alternative human ideal, a possible way to deal with this crisis. For me, the possibility resonates with the current moment as people gather collectively on streets, maidans and parks across the world forging new constellations. Today’s dissent is a reflection of its times and also a process of critical reading. It’s a long term endeavour, an endeavour that may change the course of history.

Against this backdrop, can we look at artistic and other forms of expressions as mere reflections? The contemporary moment carries immense potential within itself and offers radical possibilities. In such volatile times, one wonders, is reflection enough or do we find newer forms of representation, defiance and expression? Camus concludes his speech by pointing out the strong will of the people as ‘in a world torn apart by terror, they try to save for mankind what can still be saved. And that is the ironly ambition.’ As we enter the new decade and we carry forward the concerns from the last decade, at Hakara Journal, we strive to reflect on the multi-layered notion of ‘reflection’ in our current edition.