Large canvases about small moments.

I grew up in a two-room flat in Lake Gardens where nothing was ever still — and everything, in memory, is. I trained at Kala Bhavana, Santiniketan, then spent three years in a printmaking studio in Baroda learning that an edition teaches you honesty: every mistake, twenty-five times.

The paintings are large because memory exaggerates. A kitchen becomes a cathedral at 6 a.m.; a power cut becomes theatre. Collectors in twelve cities live with these rooms now, which still astonishes me.

"I paint the rooms we stop seeing because we love them."