For instance, Petromorphine — one of the works exhibited at Sweatopia, my recent solo at Mumbai’s Chemould and Bodhi Art galleries — is actually a flyover packed with 1,000 vehicles. From a distance though, it resembles a wreath or a distorted tyre gone bust. Caught in traffic, the vehicles morph into a tangle of metal that’s rendered in a fragile-looking material which is actually quite hard.

Another example is Autosaurus Tripous, which is a rickshaw made of what look like bleached bones. Riot-damaged vehicles initially inspired this work but later it took on a life of its own — as a grotesque toy that was tragic and funny at the same time. It could also be interpreted as an abandoned carcass of discarded automobiles in the fast-changing, strife-ridden Indian streetscape.

The work was the result of the many studies of burnt and destroyed vehicles that I had done during 2005 and 2006. It was only last year that the image emerged in its final form. Now it has the aura of a creature from a bygone era like a dinosaur displayed in a natural museum. It also resembles a vehicle at an automobile festival. Thus, it’s a mix of the past and the future — a permanent feature of Mumbai.

I think the one big event that has had a great influence on my work is India’s economic liberalisation. The opening up of the economy in 1991 coincided with my early days at art school. The audio-visual detonation that one saw with the opening up of the media directly impacted my sensibilities. I began to imbibe the images I saw on television and on the billboards in the city, worked with them — simplifying, layering and distorting them. It began with playful images and titles like Mom and Pop Art but later the works became less autobiographical.

My first large exhibition in New York titled First Information Report was a turning point in my career. The show comprised several sections of which Plat Du Jour (‘The Dish of the Day’) captured people coming out of railway stations. These were not conceived with political undertones but they began to speak a message-laden narrative after the Gujarat riots. They also spoke about the city in general and manmade disasters. I opened my practice to a wide range of impulses and stimuli not being bound by media, format or artistic language.

Eruda, also being showcased at Sweatopia, is an iconic sculpture of a young boy selling books near traffic signals. Made in black lead, Eruda ensures that you receive a black stain on your fingers if you touch it, provoking notions of being privileged. Black lead is the softest form of carbon while diamond is the hardest.

Another of my preoccupations is reflecting on death and mortality. Even when I was doing self-portraits, I was constantly engaged with the theme in works like Corpse Cry or Evidence from the Evaporite. These preoccupations continue into my current profile where works such as Collidonthus (the crashed car sculpture) or Autosaurus Tripous (the auto-rickshaw) carry a strong inscription of death as is omnipresent on the overcrowded Mumbai street.

Another recent work called Death of Distance shows two contrasting scenarios — one, where a rupee connects the country’s north and south through an inexpensive phone call and the other, where a little girl commits suicide because her mother could not give her one rupee to buy something to eat. This work is a prelude to my future works wherein I wish to disentangle the bundle of contradictions we live with every day. I want to show the flipside of ‘India Shining’ or ‘Incredible India’. ©
As told to Georgina Maddox