NEW DELHI ~ He had been sitting on the roof of this restaurant in Lahore’s Hira Mandi on a cold winter night when he heard the voice. Across the street, and the mesh of wires, and a million other tangible and amorphous things, the Badshahi Mosque stood. Unmoved, and in between time. For it had crossed over, and was journeying to the next. Age of belief, or disbelief, of suspension, of freedoms, and clashes.
It is easy to be taken in by the decorative elegance of Raza’s work. But once you begin to look beyond the formal beauty of his work, you encounter a stubbornly abstract language, refusing to yield its mysteries