I'm Not The Nanny

I’m Not the Nanny (TRT 1:00) 2016

My son was conceived in the haze of the first Obama election. We fell hook, line and sinker believing that CHANGE was possible. Our country elected its first bi-racial president, although to the world he was seen only as black. Micro-aggressions occurred almost daily after the birth of my child. People would stare while I walked down the street holding his hand, or strangers and relatives would tell me to have another child- one that looked more Indian. I’m Not the Nanny explores the banal day-to day activities, the ones that make you feel most like a parent, as a small resistances to those narratives.


Draupadi is a video installation looking at one of the earliest feminists in the sacred texts of Hindus, the Mahabharata.  Draupadi was promised marriage in a competition.

This installation will contain visuals of a woman dressed in a bridal like sari drowning in water, juxtaposed with the story of Draupadi from popular comic books and famous video representation of Draupadi in India that retell the tale of Draupadi.

Partition Revisited

On the eve of the 60th Anniversary of the partition between India and Pakistan, I interviewed my father and grandfather who both were living in India during the time of Partition. Their interviews are juxtaposed against popular Bollywood cinema depicting this time in India and peaceful scenes of the Ganges River. 


238 is a duratran on a light box

I don’t know how to wear a sari without someone dressing me. My parents insisted we be ourselves, and for me that entailed jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. The first time I wore a sari was the day before I got married. I was always fascinated with the texture and colors of the saris that my mom kept hanging in my childhood bedroom. My great uncle has a sari factory in Varanasi, India. I photographed the factory years ago, learning how they made them. He has gifted many of these saris to my mom over the years. The pink sari she wore when she first met my father, the grey sari from my Naniji, from weddings, to daily events, these saris tell the story of the women in my family. 238 is the number of saris my mother has at home.