My mother, Kusum Burman, an author and freedom fighter much ahead of her times gave me the money to fill the art college form against the wishes of my father. My lawyer father, P C Burman, loved me immensely and was over protective of his first born [me]. Later, when I got admission in the art college, he reluctantly agreed. I would often find him walking on the opposite footpath to me, just so I was safe. Sometimes I was thankful for it. People found me a ‘stunner’ and did sometimes follow me. My painting expeditions at times had to be curtailed if there were chances of over staying.

Against all odds, the love and passion for painting became my driving force. I was not born with a silver spoon, I knew, but nothing came to me on a platter is what I soon realised. Just when Daddy was coming around to my ‘love for art,’ the societal obligation to fulfil one’s responsibility as a father took over. In 70’s when liberty was knocking on the doors of traditions, Daddy got worried of this ‘odd ball’ of the family who wanted to choose painting over marriage. He insisted I get married. The daughter in me consoled the artist within and with a heavy heart, I succumbed. I soon became pregnant. Now the artist in me had too many to deal with: a wife, a mother, a daughter-in-law and many such. It did. Not long after I gave birth to my first child I returned to Kolkata to finish my art degree. Along came my little daughter and again it was my mother who came to my rescue. Mummy would look after my first born while I attended the art college.

This is how I finished my five-year degree at the Government Art College, Kolkata.

It’s been over four decades that the artist in me is surviving all relations, responsibilities and retaliations sent over my way.

To keep your passion alive amidst all worldly pressures is a test of our love for it!

Let us keep going together!