An idea that was born out of monotony has taken its form in an audio-visual. What began with just a melody, is now a monologue of three minutes and twelve seconds devised by Puneesh Suri and Reshna Banerjee.
The song was created by Puneesh inside his humble home studio. During an informal listening-session with Reshna, it was derived that the song depicts the infinite-loop of reality in between an everyday quintessential monologue. It was then conceived that the song must be documented with visuals that draw metaphorical parallels to the core idea of the track. As per Reshna’s vision of the video, the duo decided to tread the streets of Delhi to create a story and consummate it with a connecting element. The element was not just created but also performed by Reshna herself.
Press play to start the | monologue.
Reshna Banerjee from 1:51 am and Puneesh Suri from ar[t]runk are collaborating on a project.
Watch this space for more.
How far would you go to feed your insanity? How long will you say that you will do it to keep it sane? The cuts wouldn’t be deep enough till the valley rises, the spring of wine to which your thoughts would succumb. The maddened lines embroidered artistically, delicacy you will find there none. Only the haste to finish the last chapter, you will take the glass through your hand till the last word is done.
How far would you go to follow the belief, that the only truth is god’s son? Will you turn the page in disinterest but thrash yourself in urge for some? The naked truth is as stark as the vice in your sermon. It shows itself, in the torn paper and the glue which holds the replacement. The sham holds strong in the covers and the T-ruthless sin on the wall, with no water to wash the grey and red ink intoxicating the skeletons of your brain. Which keeps the bones from falling off, the veins from nearing the dock.
I would go without dough or a penny but let me keep my insanity. My hunger wouldn’t cease at all. My hands may be cut and my tongue walled. I will be my ink and quill and tattoo my being with the needle that doesn’t prick at all. I will write. I will stay insane to keep my sanity after all.
I lie in a corner, splashed in life both old and new
I stare at each passer-by
Some judgingly slip in a glance
While I seductively fool some of you
Some almost touch me giving it a closer chance
They anoint me with meanings
Some decide meaning there is none.
No matter how beautiful I am
I can never choose or reject you
My essence will still remain the blend of his hues
Complete, when he fills in my flaws
And we begin to be known in twos.
Bid my price at the auction
He’ll be my man and I his wife
Never can you afford the humble muse
You can dissect me with your blood stained fork and knife
But my dear lover once you hang me
Only then will I come alive.