Why is this image of an old phone booth under a flyover (UFO) so deeply embedded in my head.
Bright red. Blood red. Exposed. Contained. An open wound. A slit on the wrist of this giant hand that has placed itself amidst the microcosm of daily human life.
The UFO is an alien structure. The physical manifestation of powers that are too large to comprehend. Of motions and action that we cannot control.
The Phone Booth is a tribute to that human desire for connection. Communication. A way to reach out of our own bodies and minds to someone we love, someone we desire.
This is the way I see Malleshwaram, confused, torn by urbanization, reaching out to her past to understand, remember, rediscover herself. Symbolically placing her desire and wound under the very emblem of that which has disrupted and forced change, for better and worse.