My Creative Practice


2025



MSc in Creative Technology: link to course blog




Interrogating Desire - 1


These works are exercises in trying to understand and articulate feelings of desire. They are digital illustrations and be warned, there is nudity.





Our Hands


This work is a documentation, reflection, and celebration of a queer Christmas spent with loved ones. It highlights the importance of hands—an often-overlooked but deeply expressive part of who we are. In a culture that prioritizes faces, our hands are constantly doing, making, and feeling, yet they rarely receive the same attention.

Over 12 days of Christmas social gatherings, I documented the hands of the people I met. Each participant was invited to arrange their hands in a way that felt natural to them—a gesture of self-expression. These images were then digitally processed, transforming them into a visual record of connection, presence, and touch.






2024



Looking for Love...


This is a quick HTML based game called Cat Love. Each scene has a clickable area which you find by moving the mouse over the image. The path of love never runs smooth, but there are always more fish in the sea!






A Gift - Handmade Pamphlet


This project began as a collaboration with a friend who runs compassion-based mindfulness workshops for LGBTQIA+ people of South Asian heritage. We wanted to create something meaningful for participants—a booklet they could take away at the end of a new four-week course. Something tangible that could offer support beyond the sessions themselves.

Drawing from both my lived experience as a member of this community and my personal and professional engagement with mindfulness, I wrote the content with the intention of making it accessible, affirming, and reflective of the unique challenges and strengths within our identities. More than just an informational guide, the booklet was designed to feel like a personal and thoughtful object, something that would acknowledge the vulnerability that can arise in this kind of work and gently affirm that it is okay to feel that way.

The process of creating the booklets was deeply rewarding. I sourced the paper and constructed each booklet by hand, binding them with linen thread to create something delicate yet sturdy. The act of making—of carefully planning, printing, and binding—was just as important to me as the final result.





7 Suns - Video


This project explores the transformation of sound through digitisation—how audio can be reshaped into something entirely new when it moves between formats. Using instruments that I own, I recorded a series of sounds of equal length, then converted them into RAW files, images, and finally back into sound.

The instruments—flute, recorder, guitar, hammered dulcimer, my voice, and high and low tabla drums—each carried distinct tonal qualities, but through this process, their original characteristics were altered, fragmented, and remixed. Using Photoshop, I manipulated the black-and-white images, adding color and a circular form to each, which led me to reflect on the sun and the dangerously hot summers that climate change will bring.

These evolving sound-images became the foundation for my video, "Dystopian Summers." The piece highlights how digitisation is not neutral; it is a process of transformation. We rarely consider what is added, removed, or distorted when media is translated between formats. In this work, music becomes noise, noise becomes image, and image returns to sound, each stage introducing unintended changes.

The resulting piece carries a foreboding tone, mirroring my unease with some of the promises surrounding new AI technologies. Just as this project reveals the instability of digital media, it also speaks to broader anxieties about control, distortion, and the unknown futures we are being asked to embrace.






Dinner and Dance - Remix Video


Rediscovering a video from a long time ago. A party where my parents are younger than I am now. Thinking about the sensuality of these places, the colours, the deep pulsing beats, the close dancing.

Taken out of context, the scene felt like a dream. I have sought to make it more like a dream. Can you make sense of what you see and hear? What does this dream mean for you?






Night Sweats - Music Video


Words from the poem The Man with Night Sweats" by Thom Gunn with video and music by kuch bhogal.






Shielded


A collaboration between Kuch Bhogal and artist Dan Auluk



The Critical Exchange - Exhibition and Group Critique


The Critical Exchange Network is a platform for artists in and around Southampton to present a body of work and engage in a structured question-and-answer session about their practice. Using the Liz Lerman Critical Response Process, the event creates a space for meaningful dialogue, helping artists gain insight into their projects and creative processes.

For this session, attendees were invited to view my work before participating in a facilitated discussion with me as the artist. In preparation, I was supported in developing a set of guiding questions—areas I wanted the audience to reflect on and engage with during the conversation.

I chose to present works I had been developing over the past year, including the triptych and the Our Bodies_Your Spaces paintings. The process of arranging and installing the pieces allowed me to experiment with different ways of visually connecting them, creating new relationships between the works in the space. One particularly interesting moment was seeing how many attendees kept returning to examine the Who Who Who series—works that had never been shown publicly before.

I left the evening feeling encouraged and inspired, carrying with me valuable feedback and fresh perspectives. The experience not only deepened my engagement with my own practice but also strengthened my local connections.



MyMind - A Digital Exhibition


MyMind is an online exhibition of interdiciplinary work. It is structured using the Freud's conception of the architecture of the mind: the id, the ego and the superego.



Man - Digital Illustration


I am interested in how male-to-male desire is cultivated and depicted, and how bodies become sites of both attraction and ambiguity. Desire is often framed as something inherent, as if beauty is universal—but in reality, our standards of attraction are shaped by dominant cultural narratives. We are taught what to find desirable, absorbing ideals that shift with time and context.

Within gay male culture, different body types—hairy or smooth, muscular or slender, thin or heavy—each occupy their own niche, yet all exist in relation to the broader constructs of masculinity in wider society. The question is not just who we desire, but why—what forces shape our longing, and how do they dictate who is seen as desirable?

This image is a response to my own sense of desire and the energy that emerges when desire is used as a creative method. Though the subject is someone else, the work is ultimately about me—an exploration of attraction, reflection, and the blurred lines between self and other.


2023



OurBodies_YourSpaces - Paint on Canvas



The body is vulnerable, even more so in it's naked state. Bodies as sites of desire and violence - risk that we navigate as we move through the world. Inside, outside, seen or hidden. There is no easy answer.



Mr X


His body was the first body that I felt drawn to. The situation was all kinds of risky and it took me a long time to find the words to articulate what I had been feeling. He became the archetype. The one I am always drawn towards, no matter how much I try to resist.



Tryptych - Photography


A love letter. A celebration in pink and gold.

We live in a culture of images, where people continuously capture and curate versions of themselves to share with the world. But what about the parts of us that are less often seen—the aspects of our bodies that exist outside of the carefully framed, controlled gaze of the camera?

This series began as an exploration of my relationship with my naked body—the hair on my brown skin, the parts of myself that remain hidden from my own reflection in the mirror. It was also an inquiry into how I felt about making these images visible—what it would mean to reveal them, and what I might need to alter before doing so.

When confronted with the raw images, I felt too exposed, too vulnerable. Editing and filtering became necessary—not as a way of erasing, but as a method of mediation and protection. The use of pink in these images adds another layer of meaning. A colour that shifts in significance across cultures, in this context, it often serves to feminise, introducing questions of gender, perception, and the ways bodies are read and coded through colour.




New Year - Digital Illustration




Proud - Digital Illustration


Made as an illustration for a pride event for the Suryan Collective CIC. Exhibited at Goldsmith’s Library as part of their LGBTQ+ Positive Voices exhibition.



Who Who Who - Mixed Media


It has taken me a long time to feel comfortable in my position in relation to gender and sex. Growing up, I felt more at ease in the company of women—drawn to their ways of being, their conversations, their worlds—yet my physical attraction has always been toward men. This tension, this sense of existing between categories, has shaped my understanding of myself and the way I navigate identity.

This piece is an exploration of ambiguity, of the in-between, of resisting the need for fixed definitions. Where do we place ourselves when we do not fully align with the boxes we are given? What does it mean to exist in a space that is neither entirely one thing nor another?

The work consists of 21 illustrations and a video, with music playing through the sequence of images.






Queer Joyz - Video and Music


Memory fragments, stories from before laid over my present. This video is a sense making exercise. Looking for joy in the journey. The wound is painful but it can also be the site of healing, repair and new beginnings.






The Village - Digital Illustration


Lusty, sexy and special. A night out in gaytown. It was quiet and the go-go dancer was up for a chat. He had eyes for one of us and there was the brief potential for something more to happen. Drinks, laughter, sexy situations. Community, connection and memories that take root in our bodies.



2022



Dance - Linoprint on Paper


Eyes meet across a dancefloor, suddenly a dance turns into a connection. Suddenly you are seen and you are found.






Contortion - Paint on Paper and Digital


Dreams as sources for new insight and inspiration. Dreams as places where otherwise unknown or unarticulated emotions are stored and made visible to us.

A dream about being trapped inside an attic, with only a small door, open to the sky that allowed in the air and the possibility for escape or release. This is how I was feeling at the time I made this work. This work is a memory of a feeling that still haunts my body now – contortion in spaces, not made for me.

I have an uneasy relationship with this work. It speaks to my hidden constrictions and articulates them in a way that sometimes feels too direct. It is a reminder of the risks of living a life that does not fit your body and how I feel always at risk of slipping back into this – being put somewhere that I don’t feel I fit.



ਮੈਂ - Digital Illustration


One of my earliest memories of seeing myself is on a video from when I was a toddler. In Punjabi, I exclaim, “It’s me!” I must have been aware that the camera was recording me, even though, at the time, cameras didn’t yet have screens. This illustration is a composite of multiple ideas and images, created through both digital and non-digital processes. It incorporates the Punjabi words for ‘who’ and ‘me’, reflecting on the early moments of self-recognition.

When did you first get a sense of yourself as independent from your family or caregivers? Or perhaps we are never truly just ourselves—we are a collection, a compendium of all the connections, experiences, and influences that shape us over time. Much of this is forgotten or ignored, yet our minds continuously create meaning, even where none was intended.

The person in this image may never have existed exactly as they appear here. But that is the nature of memory and identity—we must claim and reclaim our stories, shaping them in ways that help us navigate our lives. We define our own narratives in the way we understand them to be true.

This image serves as a talisman—a symbol of beginnings and potential. As a toddler, I didn’t yet have the words to describe all that I would go on to see and do. My hybrid upbringing has been both a burden and a source of immense strength. It has given me a way to perceive the world in all its richness, even when that world tries to flatten me into something more easily understood.



The Sacrifice - Digital Mini Comic


What would you do if you were offered the chance to save someone that you love at the cost of your heart?

Taking inspiration from the Japanese folklore of the being called a ‘kappa’ this short comic book is about the idea of sacrifice in relationships and the idea of hidden sacrifices and how they can have hidden consequences.






Topless - Digital Painting


This work is a kind of self-portrait—an exploration of looking at my own naked body. It is about hair and hairlessness, color, and perception. It is about the act of processing, and translating my body into a new image using digital tools and it became an unexpected act of self-engagement.

There is something strange and profound about drawing from one’s own naked body. The experience confirmed for me that looking and seeing are not the same. Documenting this process—creating a tangible record of what I saw—shifted my understanding of my body, transforming something that once felt fixed or predefined into something fluid and open to reinterpretation.




Does the Way Male Body Hair Was Painted in Sylvia Sleigh’s "The Turkish Bath" Have Significance?


Have you seen the work "The Turkish Baths" (1973) by Slyvia Sleigh? I found the painting when I was researching male body hair in painting. My research seemed to suggest that male body hair is infrequently depicted and when I found this painting, I also realised that sensitive and authentic paintings of the male nude are also relatively rare. I used the painting as a leaping off point for a brief undergradate essay on body hair in painting.


2021



Dick Pics

This work explores desire, lust, and the secret acts that unfold in back alleys—hidden yet ever-present. It also considers the materiality of different paints, how their textures and properties shape meaning, and how they invite different interpretations through both sight and touch. Looking itself becomes a form of touching. The image used in this work is of a street in Central London. At night, it falls silent, and I found myself wondering—what kinds of encounters take place there in the hidden hours?

What does it mean to look at the male penis as an object of desire and lust? What acts of longing and secrecy play out in the back streets of London? How does the very act of concealment shape sexuality and its expression? What does it mean to see or not see—to witness or remain unseen?

This work is about voyeurism, risk, and excitement, questioning what we are allowed to use the streets for—and what remains out of bounds.








Resist - Paint on Paper


This work is my response to the murder of George Floyd and to my discovery of bell hooks, and the realization that, whether I liked it or not, I was part of the problem. The figure exists in a perpetual state of resistance. There is hope in the struggle, but also risk. The body is both a site of danger and a symbol of resilience. The piece emerges from my personal exhaustion—the weight of knowing that I must keep resisting simply because of the color of my skin. Loving and living within a white supremacist, imperialist, capitalist culture (as hooks describes), I am constantly aware that, in the wrong place at the wrong time, my body may betray me—whether I want it to or not.

Why do some lives seem to matter more than others? What burdens are placed on certain bodies, and what does resistance look and feel like?

The process of making this piece was itself an act of wrestling with these questions. Each mark and gesture carries the tension of exhaustion and defiance. And yet, within that struggle, there is also something else—something like hope.





The Alley


In the routine of walking to school, there was one alley which we used every day. On the way home, one day as a teenager I had my first visual encounter with the naked male body as an object of desire. A torn out page from a magazine, lying crumpled in the rubbish border on the side of the pavement. I remember the feeling of electricity as something in my body lit up and responded to what was being shown. I also remember the feeling of risk and danger and wonder about where this image came from.

I did not pick it up, the image was burned in my mind but at the time it was safer to file it away then think about it. It felt like I was the only person there that day but I doubt I was the only one who saw the image. Who left it there and what happened to it?



Sitting Curved Back - Paint on Paper


This was my first experiment using large sheets of paper, stretching from floor to ceiling. I worked with expansive gestures, searching for ways to use paint to embody the physical—to sculpt a shape out of nothing. I created this piece while listening to Reality Show by Jazmine Sullivan—an album filled with songs of love, conflict, and sensuality. The body in the work reflects an aspect of my own desire. It is an archetype—one that, when seen at full scale, demands to be looked at and felt.

This is about feeling the sensual. I painted with sweeping arm movements, as if I were touching the body itself. The work is a record of lust and attraction, an expression of longing. It is large, commanding presence, inviting the viewer into a world of sensuality—one that can only be accessed if you allow yourself to feel it.



Never Again - Paint on A3 Paper


This work is the second version of a piece reflecting on my experiences growing up. I often felt separate and distant from others, even within my large extended family. At the time, my long hair reflected my Sikh Punjabi heritage—something I didn’t fully appreciate then but now recognize as significant. I loved my hair, though I only understand this in hindsight.

I miss my long hair, but growing up was not easy. The decisions we make in childhood and adolescence shape our paths in ways we don’t always anticipate. Although I sometimes wish I had my hair back, I wouldn’t want to hold on to it solely as a marker of religion. While Sikhism continues to guide my life, I feel disillusioned with its practice as a cultural institution.

This work is a relic of a past that belongs only to me—a reminder of the ghosts that still linger. It speaks to the things we carry, often hidden within us, as we navigate our days. And it reflects the significance of what we choose to turn away from as we construct our own origin stories.


2020



The Flight - Paint on Canvas




This piece was created in response to an open call from Southampton Art Gallery. Although one of my other images was selected for the exhibition, this was the one I felt most strongly about. It explores my feelings about migration across water—the danger, the enormity of the act, and the unseen hardships that people endure every day. At the same time, it is a record of resilience in adversity.

The open call’s theme was about pioneers—those who leave their homes to build new lives elsewhere. What drives people to make these journeys, even when they know they will be difficult or life-threatening? Why do they leave behind everything familiar in search of something new?

I found the process of painting the sea in motion particularly engaging, especially in capturing the movement of the waves. But beyond technique, the work raises deeper questions: How many of us would have the strength to take such a journey in search of safety and opportunity? How do people make sense of these experiences? And what role can art play in fostering empathy for those who undertake them?



2019



Taraki - Mixed Media


I'm interested in sequential illustration, printmaking, digital technologies, and the fusion between digital and non-digital making. Through these mediums, I wanted to explore my hybrid British identity and what it felt like to grow up in a Punjabi family with West African influences in the UK. This exploration also reflects the process of individuation I experienced, which I have come to see as a form of liberation.

Using family photo albums as reference and inspiration, I began drawing by hand, iterating between digital and hand-drawn techniques to layer the images. This process made me consider: how would you describe your upbringing and early life as a series of illustrations?

The density and richness of our upbringings are often obscured or forgotten. When your heritage lies outside the average or dominant experience, it can feel as though it has less value or sometimes doesn't even exist.

Creating these works helped me understand aspects of my experience in ways I hadn't before. I printed the illustrations and displayed them in my home as a record and reminder of where I come from. It's interesting to observe people's reactions; some of the most wonderful moments occur when others see the illustrations and recognize something of themselves in the images.






When I Am Laid (Touching) - Video and Song


Men touching men is a risky thing. The piece is a video composed of stock clips, edited together and obscured. The work explores the touch between men that I imagine but cannot access.

The audio track is my rendition of the song “When I Am Laid in Earth” by Henry Purcell. It is a counterpoint to the hardness often demanded by masculinity. Tenderness is a part of masculinity, yet it is not celebrated or valued in the same way. The green overlay serves as a reminder to be cautious about how we perceive and describe close contact between men, acknowledging the potential danger in this act.

I began by examining videos of men playing sports, observing their close contact and wondering about their thoughts and feelings as they grabbed and embraced each other. I contemplated how I would feel holding them in these ways. This reflection led me to consider the risks involved in touching or being close to another person, and the rule-based systems that allow us to touch each other without risk. It also made me think about the touch that occurs beyond what we can see. Although these videos were created to be watched, they were not intended to be analysed in this manner. I obscured the viewer's perspective to emphasize this point and to encourage a deeper examination of what is being shown.

I wanted to encourage people to think about the different ways that touch can be read and experienced, and how these experiences are translated through lenses like social norms.