7 o' clocks of Littledom

Pinafores and stapled on handkerchiefs.
Books, exploding the seams of Mickey
Mouse bags. These hands held up tiny
Bata feet onto the aluminium and wooden
chariot.





Afternoon Board exams. Quiet streets, coconut sellers
taking a nap at courtyards of old family homes.






The chime of the bell is lost at busy streets.
Evenings, on the way to singing class, reciting the first
learned alphabets. The chronology is lost amongst the
fervour of growing up.






Sunday fish markets, in carefully plaited
hair. Sampling the samples, without being
offered. Sitting with grown ups in grown
up cafés. Hearing them talk about the
Movement. The movement is always on.





Learning all the punchlines of adverts on TV
so I can teach him what Surf really does. The stains
have special names on Television. They also
look colourful and un-stain like.





Dressed up for the pujas. A new shirt neatly
folded in by my mother. I am waiting to present
him a new year.

Prior to Exhibit 1

People in Museums : I am looking for fodder for my narrative.













Candid moments, relationships, conversations.














Juxtaposition, altering meaning. I find the glass cabinets fascinating!
They create connections in the space


I am looking at the map, as
a narrative tool. I am trying to
see if I can create a collage of the
space with the map, since it is the
blueprint of the space. It is pure
information. How would we
incorporate emotion? The
moments that people leave
behind?How can a map be
any different?














Have you seen the work of
George Widener ? I saw him
at the Museum of Everything.
He uses existing satellite
images and maps to create
his own topography.

I like his madness. His attention
to detail. It is in the concept
more than the execution, which
sort of changes the idea of
"attention to detail".








part of a Greek sculpture.

















Woman and boy. Part of a Greek sculpture.


When we change the order of structured information,
and make it more random, what are the connections that we see?

took my drawings for a walk

The Hyper real world has become what our
myths were made up of. The Giant Horse,
The Many Headed Serpent, The City Built on
One's Shins. Our world has collapsed into
nodules, we live in them, breathe in them,
floating somewhere in a space that rests on
the Giant Tortoise. I look around and see
everyone in their world. The city is a
crisscross of wireless communication. We
don't see those telephone wires anymore.
We see the sky gleaming, bereft of birds-
but no one has the time to look up now.

Repositioning of the Spirit

The objective is to bring the essence or spirit of an object
and translate it into a space, that alters the object- it's
meaning, motive, existence.
I chose a childhood object- a One Rupee note, dating back
to circa 1974, I wanted to encapsulate a few of my childhood
memories in it, and bring in the old adage- that money
cannot buy everything, specially to a child- in the hope that
the value of this will exceed the note's material connotation.
So, when you open the tiny note, it pops up into the times..
















..when we bottled in fireflies.
















Or smothered our neighbourhood with kites.
















Or floated paper boats in the rain.

This is my first adventure with paper 'engineering' but I guess
you can do anything if you have a story to share!

meandering wandering goa

my version of Goa-the seen and the unseen,
the 'locals' and the displaced.
The stark reality and colour.
tourism and sex.