A cave echoes a sound of solitude; stories of past and present reveal, whispering what could possibly unfold. Waves crash the mouth of the cave chanting over every drop that left its body, grieving, remembering. Cave bed carries the salt like a cemetery of every drop that washed its doorstep…. separation seems the essential moment of being. Alike an ascetic’s bamboo flute, wailing and chanting …rose rose rose, fountain fountain fountain, light light light, yearning to find its way to the root.

The works in the exhibition, Lament of a tree by Iqra Tanveer resounds to a collective grief, a loss similar to a moment of fall, a memory that is held through incessant incantations. Working with photographs; as light projections or a material skin of a wall, she tries to evoke an active state of remembrance, resonating to a past that finds its anchor in the present.