India, April 5 -- Art, it is said, is where the heart is and for some years now, young artists passing out of the Chandigarh College of Art have their hearts set on old Mullanpur fields remodelled in an alluring residential township spread over 806 acres in the foothills of the Shivalik Hills with resorts and sprawling farm houses of politicians, bureaucrats and the affluent besides those who already owned fields there. Builders moved in providing plush residential societies when Chandigarh had no more space to offer. What is interesting is that the young artists and writers too found a place there to work and live and create their art on unbuilt land with a storey or two. One recalls going there a decade ago on the picturesque view of the Siswan Road where fresh young artistes, including Mandeep Singh, Harpal and Narinder Mord, lived in a big shed with a rooftop and its lovely view. They worked and even held shows of merit. Later one heard that the shed was demolished and the artists scattered. But nothing really changes and one finds oneself in yet another yard with a room, alongside younger sculptors Tari, Simarjeet Sekha and Mandeep of yore. The mood is upbeat with friendly Indi dogs giving a warm welcome to the yard scattered with finely carved sculptures. Sculptor Simarjeet Sekha brings piping hot tea. What follows is music in the air with Tari playing an instrument I had never heard of or seen. Of course, it is never too late to learn of this ancient Australian wind instrument called the didgeridoo. As Tari blows circular breathing into the long wooden pipe circularly, a calm and deep rhythmic sound fills the calm. Originally made from eucalyptus wood hollowed by termites but now Tari the artist makes his own from the wood of his choice. Soon the humming is joined by Sekha plucking the strings of his guitar and a creative mood overcomes the surroundings and one is with young men who dare to make their dreams come true. Equally interesting are the stories of these young men who chose the way of art. The city born and bred Tari was expected by his parents to take up a government job. So after completing school he joined Panjab University to study further but his heart seemed to be elsewhere. He recounts that he would often see visions in his dreams which he could not quite interpret until someone told him that there was a College of Art in the city. And so he applied there and made it and opted for sculpture. "This was to change the world of a backbencher like me and I started feeling that I am living my dreams and it was my good luck that I had a teacher like Manmada Rao Sir." He further honed his skills by learning Kinnal Art and woodcarving in Mysore and making film prosthetics in Ahmedabad. "Art showed me the way to live and create." The name for this studio was of course given by Sekha, the senior partner-in-arms to Tari. When asked why he chose the name 'Blunt', he replies: "It was the first word that came to my mind when we were setting it up. Many are the connotations of the word but my intention was that it was straightforward with nothing to hide. Ours is a place for exchange of ideas, sharing and creating. We pursue our passion in our own way and the aim is to move from one work to the next with grace and nothing to hide". True enough the passage of art is an artist's own struggle to create from the raw material stored in learning and experience and the artist's struggle is always with himself to be able to create from learning and experience and it is a blunt struggle with his own art and metaphors. A true son of the soil, he was born to a farmer's family in Sekha village near Barnala and he carries the name with him as is often the custom in rural Punjab where a person is known by the name of his village. A non-medical student in college, yet he enjoyed sketching and moulding clay. He finally chose the way of artistic expression. A radical as a student, he recalls his first work, "The first sculpture that I made in clay was of Bhagat Singh, the ultimate hero of Punjab". Fond of poetry and music, his stone sculptures are firm but not without an element of softness. Talking of the experience of working with Tari, his classmate, and Mandeep, his senior, he says, "We work together but each one has a different style and we share a good critique about each other's work for 'Blunt' is their key word." Reetika Verma, a Jammu girl, was born with the gift of the brush. A painter to be reckoned with she yet proudly calls herself a tattoo artist but tattoos are not just tattoos, they represent a long human struggle of identity, revolt and assertion. A child prodigy when it came to drawing, she was the chosen one in her school days to make portraits for she did it with perfection to the joy of her art teacher. And this led to an interesting opportunity when she was in her senior school. Well-known actor and filmmaker Nana Patekar was visiting her school and her art teacher in school, Chandrasekhar, asked her to make a portrait of the artiste which would be presented to him. Reetika recalls, "Patekar was so overcome, and being a student of Sir JJ School of Art, he got me to come on scholarship for further studies to Pune. But I could not adjust there. I was advised to join the Chandigarh College of Art." Hers has been a special work for travelling to Chhattisgarh to study the significance of tattoos among the backward classes. Hanging in her studio are paintings of the Ram Nami Tribe who were not allowed by the upper castes to enter the Ram temples, so they tattooed Ram all over their faces and bodies. She recounts that Orissa tribal girls were not permitted by the upper castes to cover the upper parts of their bodies. She adds: "They chose to cover their breasts with dark and ugly tattoos to assert their right to modesty granted only to upper caste women." Atta girl, so proud of your journey....