The figures that K. Khosa draws are as if sculpted rather than painted. There is no attempt to show off painterly skill but merely the anxiety to explore the timeless dimension,forhis art is not that of a perfectionist and performer but of one in favour of regeneration of deeper self. Part reality, part unreality but in this very undefinable something is the essence of art: images searching for the truth of existence, they groping for the missing light, for the responsive human face.


Ideal art is the truest form of realism, for it involves eternal truths, where the ordinary realist is satisfied with the rather crude test of everyday experience alone. But that first art is achieved through an elevated concept of what essentially is. Only finely contemplative minds could perhaps create works of that order. Here the artist is one who has some quintessential personal knowledge of humane existence; one who has unified himself sufficiently enough; or who has sensed that the empirical or pragmatic reality is colouredby the prism of eternity. This is no momentary beauty but momentous mind-grasped tidings. It is this inner world of meaning to which this class of artist clings. There is stillness to these compositions, the stillness at the heart of stones, in unpeopled spaces. It is the stillness of the moon. Thus too, the figures-angelic or serene - in khosa’s work seem to float in ether – that sacred postulate of deep self communings.

Keshav Malik
Poet and Art Critic