<p>Calligraphy is a form of meditation. When you reach the zenith of concentration and connect with the ultimate creator – the Almighty, you are able to create a piece of art where letters and words assume a new shape, meaning and dimension.” <br /><br /></p>.<p>Probably no one else could have explained the practice of calligraphy in a more befitting manner than Qamar Dagar – a Delhi-based artist who has herself devoted over 30 years of her life to practising this art.Qamar Dagar, the daughter of the illustrious Dagar family – the name to reckon with when talking about the Dhrupad tradition in Indian classical music, is today known as the founder of the unique Qalamkaari Creative Calligraphy Trust. She also started the first-of-its-kind Qalam-Aatma Calligraphy Festival which brings together dozens of eminent calligraphers from across the world, once a year, to the Capital of India. But between the instance when a young Qamar decided to break tradition and pursue calligraphy instead of music, and today, when she hosts one of the most fascinating art festivals in Delhi, has been a long journey of discovery and self-realisation. Metrolife spoke to Qamar about this mystic art called calligraphy and her passion for it.<br /><br />Hailing from a family of artistes, she was taught to appreciate art in all its forms, says Qamar, “My father Fayazuddin Dagar trained me in tanpura but at the same time, he introduced me to various forms of creative arts. When I was about 10, he got me a book of calligraphy by the legendary Iraqi artist Hassan Massody. My eyes lit up as soon as I saw letters and words designed to resemble myriad flowers, birds, butterflies, animals; I knew that very instance that I wanted to learn this art.”Qamar’s initial training took place under their family guru Amir Abdullah Khan who was an expert in penning Arabic Quranic verses. Soon, she started calligraphy in her own style combining Hindi and Urdu scripts. “I was fascinated. Hindi is written from left to right and Urdu in reverse. The thought of combining these two to give pictorial expression to words, set my imagination ablaze.”<br /><br />Out came a range of calligraphic works from her pen. The word khushi (happiness) written in Urdu to resemble a dancing girl, anjaam (culmination) in the shape of a flower, the 99 names of Allah such as Zahir, Wasio, Baatin and Baki designed in myriad forms to illustrate their meanings, are some examples.She says she was initially scared of combining Hindi and Urdu, and using it to depict Islamic holy words especially, “but once I got the backing of my family, I cleared my mind of all religious reservations.”Next she got more encouragement from calligraphers and calligraphy patrons abroad, as she travelled with her brother Wasifuddin Dagar for concerts, and showed them her work. <br /><br />“One of them was the revered Hassan Massody himself and I can’t express my pleasure to have met my childhood idol,” expresses Qamar. Consequently, she met several other artists – Chinese, Japanese, French, Iranian – who do calligraphy in their respective scripts, and joined in in her movement to revive calligraphy - the Qalam-Aatma festival.“The latest solo exhibition my trust has held,” she infor-ms us, “was of an 85-year-old artist Mohammad Yasin who does astonishingly beautiful acrylic calligraphy on canvas.<br /><br /> In my previous exhibits, I have had artists doing calligraphy in now rarely-practised languages like Sanskrit and Avestan (of Zoroastrian origin), besides work not only on paper but wood, metal, mica, terracotta, stone and metal.”In our own country, she points out, there are hundreds of languages which have not seen any kind of calligraphic work to keep them alive. “Recently, Jamia Milia Islamia and the Urdu Council have started classes in calligraphy. Delhi University, I heard, has shown some interest; but much more needs to be done to save calligraphy,” she stresses, “This art is as old as our scripts. It is too precious to be lost to the march of technology and globalisation.”Baishali Adak</p>
<p>Calligraphy is a form of meditation. When you reach the zenith of concentration and connect with the ultimate creator – the Almighty, you are able to create a piece of art where letters and words assume a new shape, meaning and dimension.” <br /><br /></p>.<p>Probably no one else could have explained the practice of calligraphy in a more befitting manner than Qamar Dagar – a Delhi-based artist who has herself devoted over 30 years of her life to practising this art.Qamar Dagar, the daughter of the illustrious Dagar family – the name to reckon with when talking about the Dhrupad tradition in Indian classical music, is today known as the founder of the unique Qalamkaari Creative Calligraphy Trust. She also started the first-of-its-kind Qalam-Aatma Calligraphy Festival which brings together dozens of eminent calligraphers from across the world, once a year, to the Capital of India. But between the instance when a young Qamar decided to break tradition and pursue calligraphy instead of music, and today, when she hosts one of the most fascinating art festivals in Delhi, has been a long journey of discovery and self-realisation. Metrolife spoke to Qamar about this mystic art called calligraphy and her passion for it.<br /><br />Hailing from a family of artistes, she was taught to appreciate art in all its forms, says Qamar, “My father Fayazuddin Dagar trained me in tanpura but at the same time, he introduced me to various forms of creative arts. When I was about 10, he got me a book of calligraphy by the legendary Iraqi artist Hassan Massody. My eyes lit up as soon as I saw letters and words designed to resemble myriad flowers, birds, butterflies, animals; I knew that very instance that I wanted to learn this art.”Qamar’s initial training took place under their family guru Amir Abdullah Khan who was an expert in penning Arabic Quranic verses. Soon, she started calligraphy in her own style combining Hindi and Urdu scripts. “I was fascinated. Hindi is written from left to right and Urdu in reverse. The thought of combining these two to give pictorial expression to words, set my imagination ablaze.”<br /><br />Out came a range of calligraphic works from her pen. The word khushi (happiness) written in Urdu to resemble a dancing girl, anjaam (culmination) in the shape of a flower, the 99 names of Allah such as Zahir, Wasio, Baatin and Baki designed in myriad forms to illustrate their meanings, are some examples.She says she was initially scared of combining Hindi and Urdu, and using it to depict Islamic holy words especially, “but once I got the backing of my family, I cleared my mind of all religious reservations.”Next she got more encouragement from calligraphers and calligraphy patrons abroad, as she travelled with her brother Wasifuddin Dagar for concerts, and showed them her work. <br /><br />“One of them was the revered Hassan Massody himself and I can’t express my pleasure to have met my childhood idol,” expresses Qamar. Consequently, she met several other artists – Chinese, Japanese, French, Iranian – who do calligraphy in their respective scripts, and joined in in her movement to revive calligraphy - the Qalam-Aatma festival.“The latest solo exhibition my trust has held,” she infor-ms us, “was of an 85-year-old artist Mohammad Yasin who does astonishingly beautiful acrylic calligraphy on canvas.<br /><br /> In my previous exhibits, I have had artists doing calligraphy in now rarely-practised languages like Sanskrit and Avestan (of Zoroastrian origin), besides work not only on paper but wood, metal, mica, terracotta, stone and metal.”In our own country, she points out, there are hundreds of languages which have not seen any kind of calligraphic work to keep them alive. “Recently, Jamia Milia Islamia and the Urdu Council have started classes in calligraphy. Delhi University, I heard, has shown some interest; but much more needs to be done to save calligraphy,” she stresses, “This art is as old as our scripts. It is too precious to be lost to the march of technology and globalisation.”Baishali Adak</p>