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Ma, felt like an endless zoom into the unknown, into an unexplored place - Expo by Max Anish Gowriah

There is a place where I always feel at home. Places where art hangs showcasing the deepest feelings of artists. A place where vulnerability bleeds with each stroke.

Do artists bury a part of themselves after pouring a part of their soul into the process?

When I first saw this art exhibition on Instagram, my first thought was. - "I have to experience Ma, from all angles."

The succession of paintings felt like throwing a rock into a river only to experience a ripple on the surface. Or at times it felt like an endless zoom into the unknown, into an unexplored place.

I think it's the first time my heart pinched during an art expo. Pair of eyes - there were a lot, reflecting pain, isolation, and struggles. At times they were opened, at times they were closed, but the eyes never lied. I'll get back to what these eyes felt to me in a while.

Ma, mother, I'll take it like that.

You see where your feet can lead you.

In places that catch your breath and turn your mind into a hurricane. You see, I consume art by leading my feet to these places and after a while when my feet are back home I share my thoughts. My thoughts lead me somewhere else. Somewhere where words sing to me. I hope you'll enjoy the melody and tune in.

The word Ma is the name of the expo. To me, it felt like a cry.  Is it because my mom is miles away from me?

Ma. Ma. Sounds like a desperate call from a child. The words from us to our Mother.

The expo started with the birth of a child. The pain, that Ma felt to bring us to life. Ma was never born with an encyclopedia of how to be the best Ma in the world, but she did what she could.

Mine was a single parent trying to be the mom and the dad while being the coolest but at times the loudest. She felt pregnant while studying on a scholarship, and she came back and brought me to life.

I'll never know the pain she felt being alone. But, I'll always be grateful she carried me from then till my eighteenth birthday. Facing glances and judgemental minds. Now, even if we're miles apart I'm happy she is enjoying life.

I can't help but think about all of these warriors. My Ma was one even before my birth.

Several rows, several layers you have to peel on these walls. Where each painting shares a space. It feels like Ma sees and is being seen by creatures around her.

It strikes me that Ma lives in a shadow, where a constant prey awaits to torment her. If only there was a ray of light on which she could count on. If only she could wrap her arms around the sun. But, she seems to only swing into the wild where she is being preyed on by a demoniac spirit that's dimming her light.

She is dying inside. Is she? Why are her expressions like a scene captured in the scariest horror movie?

The way this expo was built, was a beautiful invitation into chapters. Do the colours correlate with Ma's feelings? This thought knocked from time to time but I guess I'll only get the answer from the artist himself - Max Anish Gowriah.

You have to be a real mastermind to carve a place in the minds of people. Sharing your art is a thing but creating something that lives in the mind of others takes another zest. I've seen the artist's work online but never face-to-face.

It's tangible, and the human experience is something else.

Is Ma in her soft era? The colours were loud and gradually turned light. Is the storm behind Ma? It feels that she revels in tranquillity - maybe. It feels like Ma's mind isn't polluted with negativity or at least it feels like that.

The Story Behind


These eyes, not just Jenny's eyes. They pierce you like a keyhole saw and an underlying sadness translates into the canva. This room was haunted by eyes, eyes of women who had lived several lives in one. Depending on where you stood, these eyes followed your every step as if you were nestled in their sanctuary. Nature into the concrete.

The glance they give you when no one else is watching


Bindi snatches the attention with her stoic expression and dreamy look in her eyes. A traditional lady adorned with colours in the background. But, the colours fail to bring cheer to her eyes.

Wendy, Ariel and Devanshee

The pedestal they deserve

Some eyes were weary others emotionless. They looked at you from afar, side-eyeing your every move. Other visitors might read those eyes differently. It's called the beauty of art - cause it lies in our own eyes.

Feyi et Luna

These twins were showered in gold. It was left alone on a white wall with no close neighbours except a pair of extinguishes. With their aesthetic, you would think it wouldn't fit into the whole vibe of this room. It's like the elephant in the room. But it joins the narrative so nicely.

Women from different backgrounds can be powerful side by side in the same room.


There's an electric energy coming from these walls. Can you feel it? Powerful ladies dressed stunningly. But, caging untold stories. There's always an element of nature peeking in the background. These women and their stories are one with Mother Nature the guiding force of creation. Women, the source, nurture us.

Dress, Sari, Kimono, a meli melo of diversity, difficult to pull apart with the greenish skin colour. I love that it leaves room for interpretation.

Who are these women, where do they come from? From the east or the west? But their names are crystal clear hints.

Mala, Catherine, Lalita & Ganga, Devi , Prema

“The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.“ —St. Jerome

Look at them in the eyes

A thought just cropped up. This lady is like Eve in the Garden of Eden. Except she is dressed up in red. Is that tree the "tree of life" or is it the forbidden "tree of the knowledge of good and evil"?

The world is made of chaos and order. The good and the bad. The product of our free will. Along the way, women have used up their tears. From the first cry as a newborn till dead and buried, WE will carry our BATTLES.

Expos are a beautiful playground for the mind and soul. Surrounded by the creative lava of an artist, we can burn ourselves. But once you are burnt you remember.

It's my first time experiencing Max Anish's talent. I've enjoyed every minute. I heard he's having a second expo. So, now you know where my feet will lead me next.

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