Sculptures 2024
Ma with Hetun and Baba with Mashi
The ideas behind the work
It was a quiet morning, just before lunch. Ma sat in the drawing room, playfully teasing our young pug, Hetun, with a biscuit held between her lips. Nearby, Baba relaxed with Mashi, our older, more reserved pug, resting contentedly on his lap. Their calm companionship contrasted with Hetun’s energy, capturing a moment of everyday intimacy.
Behind them, the wall is lined with family photographs snapshots from my elder brother’s childhood and other shared memories. He passed away a few years ago, and these images now serve as silent tributes, telling the story of a life lived and deeply missed. On the other side stands a bookshelf filled with books on art and life, a quiet self-portrait through objects I’ve collected over time.
This work is both personal memory and domestic theatre. I used air-dry clay, fabric, recycled plastics, and wood, combining sculpture, painting, and craft. The lights were wired with handmade circuits, and the smallest details from the toy pug “Pochai” on the floor to the tiny hand-painted portraits were carefully built to preserve a moment of warmth, loss, and love. This piece is my way of holding onto a fleeting yet meaningful fragment of home.
The making of the work
Ma, Baba, Hetun, Mashi and me on bed resting
The ideas behind the work
As the sun dipped low and the streetlights prepared to flicker to life, the faint sounds of children playing outside signaled the close of another long day. I had just wrapped up work at the studio and, as is often my ritual, found solace in returning to the bed in Ma’s room a space that has, over time, become the quiet stage of our family’s daily drama. Nestled next to me was Mashi, my beloved dog, who always claims the bolster before wriggling herself between it and me. She thrives in the presence of others, always finding comfort in shared warmth. Baba was on my other side, casually watching videos on his phone, while Ma, dressed in her familiar green gown, lovingly fed Hetun a bit of ice cream.
This bed isn’t just furniture it’s our meeting ground. It is where we eat, chat, unwind, and play with our pets. We even made a ramp so our four-legged family members can ascend and descend freely. Each of us carries a world of personal objects here: my headphones and mobile always beside me; Ma’s diary, pen, and phone ever-present; Baba’s phone, always elsewhere, untouched and unconcerned.
In creating this piece, I have drawn on a spectrum of skills woodworking, sculpting, and painting. The materials used polymer clay, wood, acrylic paint, fabric, foam board each add their voice to the narrative. Ma’s spectacles are crafted from repurposed food container plastic, while resin adds a glossy realism to screens, eyes, and food. Matte acrylics, applied by brush and airbrush alike, breathe texture and life into every figure and object.
This work is a tender homage to the quiet yet profound intimacies of everyday life an honest, sculpted snapshot of familial love, ritual, and cohabitation.
The making of the work
Ma with baby Disco and Hetun on bed
The ideas behind the work
It was a cold winter morning when I walked into the room. Ma hadn’t had her breakfast she was sitting on the bed, caring for baby Disco, our 40-day-old pug, while Hetun, our calm and gentle older pug, kept quiet watch. Disco slept in his little cage beside the bed, safe from wandering. In that stillness, I felt something profound a quiet bond, unspoken, between a mother and her animals.
I built this diorama to hold that moment. Using polymer clay, wood, foam board, acrylic, and fabric, I recreated our world in miniature every fold of the blanket, every toy, every crease in the floral sheet. These aren’t just details. They’re memories made solid.
At its heart is Ma, seated in her quiet strength, surrounded by love. The ramp, the pink dog bed, the scattered sock they carry the texture of our life, of time passing. Â
This work is about care. About holding on. It’s my way of remembering the small, everyday rituals that shape who we are. A portrait of love, suspended in stillness.
The making of the work
Hetun watching baby Disco sleep in cage
The ideas behind the work
It was a gentle winter morning when Disco arrived just 40 days old, tiny and worn out from the journey. After a small meal and a first, hesitant meeting with Hetun, he curled up in a familiar bed the very same one Hetun had once slept in as a pup. In that quiet moment, time seemed to soften, folding back on itself. The cradle of one life became the cradle of another.
As the excitement faded, Hetun slowly approached Disco. No longer the youngest, she studied him with quiet wonder curious, cautious, almost reverent. There was something deeply moving in her gaze: a recognition of the newness of life, its fragility, its helplessness. Years ago, Mashi had watched over Hetun in this same way. Now Hetun stood in that space older, wiser, quietly stepping into a role once held for her.
This sculpture was born from that tender exchange a fleeting, wordless moment where care is passed down like a torch. It speaks of lineage, not just through blood, but through affection, memory, and time’s patient rhythm. Made from polymer clay, acrylic matte paint, resin, wood, metal, and foam board, the materials echo the contrast of delicacy and strength, just like the bond it represents. This a love letter to the cycles of nurture, the silent recognitions, and the beauty of growing into the very arms that once held you.
The making of the work
Hetun and Disco playing on chairs
The ideas behind the work
It started with a quiet evening Hetun perched calmly on a chair, Disco circling with his favourite toy, Neelu, eager to share his joy. There was something tender in that moment: him offering, her simply watching herself in the mirror, lost in thought. Â
Disco, full of puppy energy and wonder, caught sight of another pug his own reflection and froze. Confused but curious, he ran behind the mirror, searching for the other dog. Again and again. Hetun didn’t move. Older, wiser, she knew. That was her. There was no mystery to chase. Â
And I watched them one chasing illusion, the other quietly knowing and I couldn’t help but feel how deeply familiar it all was. That innocent confusion. That silent self-recognition. Don’t we do the same? Don’t we, too, learn slowly what’s real and what’s just a reflection of our hopes, our fears?
This sculpture holds that pause between wonder and understanding. Using clay, wood, mirror, fabric each texture, each surface I’ve tried to capture that fleeting magic: surprise, curiosity, the invisible thread between thought and feeling. Â
It’s not just about two pugs. It’s about all of us. The way we grow. The way we see. The way, sometimes, a mirror can show us more than just a face it can reflect who we are, and who we’re becoming.
The making of the work
Hetun and Disco playing under the table
The ideas behind the work
It started with a small worry Hetun was missing. She’s usually so calm, always tucked away in my mother’s room like a soft, breathing secret. But that evening, she wasn’t there. We called her name. Nothing. Then I noticed Disco, full of his usual wild energy, nosing around the coffee table in the living room. And there she was Hetun sitting quietly under it. Not scared, just… distant. Maybe sad. Maybe just needing space. Her eyes weren’t on us. They were fixed on the flower pot above, like it held something she couldn’t say out loud.
Then Disco tried to squeeze in next to her, clueless as ever, desperate to turn it into a game. But he couldn’t understand it wasn’t his space to enter. That moment so small, so easy to miss felt like a mirror. We all have those places, don’t we? Where we disappear. Where we let the world soften and fade so we can just be. No noise, no questions. Just stillness.
I made this piece with polymer clay, wood, resin, acrylics, and foam board. It’s messy, layered, honest like that night. Like the need to hide and feel safe, even if just for a while. Hetun’s under the table, Disco is on the outside, and in between is that quiet, tender space we all search for sometimes. A little world of our own, untouched.
The making of the work
Hetun with her stuff
The ideas behind the work
It’s just past 6 a.m., the sky still holding onto the hush of early morning. We’ve been up since 4:30, moving through the motions we know so well  packing clothes for a couple of days, folding in mom’s medicines, bottles of water, frozen food carefully tucked into a cooler: boiled chicken, curd, liver, all for Hetun. Her pillow, her supplements, her prescriptions. Everything she needs. We load it all onto the pram, getting ready to carry it down to the car. It’s time. Â
This isn’t a new journey  a five-hour drive to Delhi, one we’ve taken again and again. Since she was very little, Hetun has lived with a compromised immune system, and with that, constant infections, endless treatments. But somehow, she always knew. Knew the drive, knew the relief that would come after. And at the vet’s, she was calm, always cooperative  almost as if she understood. The doctors loved her for that. Â
This piece holds all of that. The early mornings, the careful packing, the rhythm of our shared routine. It reminds me of the many trips we’ve taken together  the excitement, the slight anxiety, the deep bond in the quiet moments of preparation. That time before the road opens up. Â
Made from polymer clay, old toy tyres, fabric, metal, wood, and foam board  these materials carry our memories. This sculpture isn’t just about a journey  it’s about love, resilience, and how even the smallest acts of care can carry the weight of the world.
The making of the work
Hetun and Disco waiting for food
The ideas behind the work
It’s almost 8:30 PM. The kitchen fills with familiar sounds the pressure cooker sighs, the microwave hums, and the smell of chicken liver and rice drifts through the air. That’s the signal. The wait begins. Â
Disco is already by the door, nose pressed to the small crack that’s always left open, just wide enough to peek. His eyes are full of restless hope any second now, someone might come. But nothing yet.  Hetun sits beside him, calm. He knows the drill. Dinner always comes. His patience is quiet, steady the kind that only comes with time.Â
This sculpture captures that moment: the stillness before joy. Made with wood, polymer clay, foam board, and acrylic paint, every detail speaks Disco’s tense lean, Hetun’s soft stillness, the shared anticipation.  It’s a small, everyday ritual. But in it lives a whole world of emotion of waiting, of growing, of love wrapped in the rhythm of home.
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The making of the work
Hetun and Disco playing with toy
The ideas behind the work
As the day winds down and work finally fades into the background, I find myself drifting into my mother’s bedroom a quiet ritual, one I look forward to. That’s when the game begins. At first, it’s gentle. Disco, the younger of the two, edges toward Hetun with playful intent, barely biting, testing her response. There’s no malice just curiosity, the beginning of something that’s been played out a hundred times but never loses its magic.
Hetun, calm and knowing, waits. And then, just when Disco thinks he’s won her over, she pounces back. The tempo shifts. Suddenly, it’s all movement Disco twisting into theatrical stances, like a tiny wrestler preparing for his next move, trying to surprise her. Laughter lingers in the air, even if silent. Then a toy comes into view. That’s when things get serious. The toy becomes the goal, the obsession. But as always, Hetun gives in, stepping back and letting Disco claim it, running off in victory.Â
Watching her yield like this reminds me of Mashi our elder pug who once did the same for Hetun. There’s a beautiful cycle here. What was once given is now passed on. The sculpture I’ve made crafted from polymer clay, wood, and resin captures this dance, this love, this moment. It’s not just play; it’s patience, memory, and the soft threads that tie us all together. Every time I look at it, stress melts away, and I’m reminded of how sweet life can be in its simplest, most playful forms.
The making of the work
Baby Disco with Pochai
The ideas behind the work
It’s a bright winter morning, and in bounds Disco  a fearless little pug pup with eyes full of mischief and a tail that just won’t quit. Ma’s named him, and it suits him perfectly. He’s all wiggles and wonder, bringing fresh joy to a home still echoing with the love of Mashi, our fierce, cuddly, and deeply missed 16-year-old pug. She was my shadow, my studio buddy  a true fighter with a heart full of snuggles.
The sculpture captures this moment of sweet chaos: Disco mid-pounce, completely obsessed with *Pochai*, a hand-stitched pug toy we originally made for his big sister Hetun. She’s two years older and way more chill, but she’s got a heart as big as her floppy ears  she lets him steal Pochai every time.
Made of polymer clay, resin, and acrylic paint, the piece is all about energy, memory, and love. Hetun watches over her little brother with patient eyes, while Disco’s caught mid-zoomie, joy in every wrinkle. And if you look closely, there’s a quiet presence  a nod to Mashi, still part of our story, still here in spirit. This is a snapshot of a new beginning, wrapped in the warmth of old love and stitched together by the soft paws of family.