Data, Otherwise

Fading Out to Extinction is a data-driven lightbox installation mapping the population trajectories of 25 IUCN-listed Indian species across four temporal scenarios: 1970, 2020, and two alternate futures projected to 2070. Each box holds 25 translucent layers, one per species, arranged by Red List Assessment order. As populations decline, layers recede toward the light source, producing a spectral fade that mirrors the logic of extinction: the closer to the light, the closer to gone. The fourth box presents a conservation-based utopian scenario, asking whether a different future is still within reach.

One person choosing the metro or the bus over a cab or auto seems to change nothing. But these choices accumulate, and in aggregate they reach the air all of us breathe. To show you how, we'll ask you a few questions about your regular trip and plot it on a map alongside everyone else's. Then, you'll get a personal receipt showing how much carbon and fine particulate your way of getting around produces in a year and how much shifting some of that travel to transit would save.

One person choosing the metro or the bus over a cab or auto seems to change nothing. But these choices accumulate, and in aggregate they reach the air all of us breathe. To show you how, we'll ask you a few questions about your regular trip and plot it on a map alongside everyone else's. Then, you'll get a personal receipt showing how much carbon and fine particulate your way of getting around produces in a year and how much shifting some of that travel to transit would save.

In Bengaluru, every new road, metro line, or construction project often begins by disrupting the ecology of the city. Yet many of these interventions have also sparked protests, legal challenges, and collective acts of resistance that sought to protect the living systems that sustain it.

This project maps ecological disruptions across Bengaluru's zones alongside the pushbacks that emerged in response to them. It asks a simple question: how often did collective action succeed in protecting the city's ecology, and how often was the soil allowed to breathe?

Within the exhibition, petrichor, the smell of rain on earth, marks places where these pushbacks succeeded. In zones where ecological loss prevailed, visitors encounter contrasting smell of tar, burning, and synthetic materials.

A summer afternoon in Delhi reads 42°C on the weather app. For a street vendor selling fruit by the roadside, the experience of heat is closer to 50°C.

As the world warms, this gap between heat data and lived experience of heat continues to widen. Days feel hotter, nights offer less relief, and prolonged heat impairs the body's ability to step outdoors, work, travel, rest, and recover.

Panes of Heat translates a year of urban heat into architectural form. Two skyscrapers stand side by side: one records air temperature, the other shows felt temperature. Each window is a day in 2024, the hottest year on record globally. Each passing hour on the clock points to two different realities of the same day.

The towers are reflective of concrete spaces that hold heat long into the night. Viewers are invited to feel the contrast between recorded temperatures and what the body endures: a dynamic, uneven, and unequally distributed experience of heat.

We would like to thank Parth Bisen and Aditi Bhatt for their help in building this project.