It has not been long since my grandmother passed away. For me, it was like my armour being snatched from my body. For the last couple of months, my work was slow and after her death, I had stopped working altogether. I remained in her room, which is now my room. I used to go through her things, again and again, trying to find her fragrance and finding assurance in these objects that she had once touched.
It took me about 8 months to do the painting below called, ‘Ibaadat’, which means prayer. The reason I named it that was because It became like praying. I used to wake up early and reach the university studio at 7.30 in the morning, work on it till the time that I could and then, most evenings, I used to walk out of the studio with a thought, a picture more clear and vivid than the other thoughts on the string. Perhaps they were answers to my prayers.