 The studio space and the site of the exhibition are the same. In the gear, tackle and trim, there is a thinness of things. A bricolage of wonder at the persistence of human labour. The spatial factor in the installation is paramount. The way the body experiences the artefact as physical obstruction and material sign. A barricade, a warehouse, a short history of labour. Bengal theatre foregrounds declamation. The body is clothed by the text. These dramatic personages are rough and ready indices rather than representative icons. The installation functions seemingly without authorial presence as a new kind genre. 19th and 20th century Bengal had made the acquisition of provable knowledge an article of faith. A specialised bibliography on Bengal and Itihas. A library made up of photographic faccibility. An image pun. The books exist only as spine. That is best. Every age does not bring its own end, does not complete its song. It leaves behind dissatisfied sighs in the wind. Digging up history, you can hear piercing through heaps of sorrowful minds the sucker-like sound of hundreds of water springs. To evoke the towering personalities of Bengal's last two centuries. But escape the homage mode of history writing. The moon standing silent at the top of the field that has no crop. It has no longing for the crop. Shamuly, your face expresses an archaic energy of an age when seafaring youths sailed out to new worlds in search for gold. Permetal they discovered that glitters because of the genius of women. And they forgot their grape vines, the sweetness of milk, peacock beds and drowned themselves in unknown depths of the cruel morning light of the sun. Countless years have passed. Time would not allow man rest to be more restful. Since one wanted something so many rivers of blood have longed, the sound of distant breakers seeming to be the dark inspiration that shouts over the shore of the century. Something happened yesterday. Would it happen again sometime in the inevitable future? We were born in this land. There was no time to turn back. There was no time to turn back. We were born in this land. We had a good life. And now we have a good life.