Monsoon, 2015 (Mumbai) A brown body, dotted with pigments of black and white, was on top of me. It pushed itself into me noisily and...

The moment I saw my reflection in the mirror running hands all over that snug fit of a red dress, I began fantasizing the course that...

Everytime I visit The Future of the Past, I find myself at a crossroads: should I (voluntarily) tumble down what seems like an abyss or...

My memory of the city I grew up in is rather unfairly occupied with parks. Parks with rows of stone-cut statues, parks on main arterial...

Last week, my father had what I can best describe as an anxiety attack. I was on my way to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle when I saw...

A movement's longevity and its imprint on the public imagination is more often than not accentuated by its participative people and the...

What is 'home' made of? Is it a collection of people? objects? memories? Is it an evolving being? Does it have a life independent of its...

The process of recalling the past poses certain fundamental questions - how does one represent the events of the past in the present?...

Image-making today has become a fairly simple exercise. We tap on our phone screens or press a button on our cameras and we can see the...

It’s 4 A.M. Trucks, rickshaws and cycles ply in and out of the market complex. There’s hollering, name-calling, tossing of sacks, and...

The mention of ‘Awadh’ immediately brings to mind the city of Lucknow: its Nawabi architecture, its scrumptious kebabs and a romanticised...

An octogenarian ‘ustad’ sat behind the harmonium gives cues to a group of girls in front of him. The girls prod each other with their...

Having lived in Mumbai for almost three years, the cacophony of the city had grown on me. A year of having travelled via the much...