For Biswajit, home will always be his childhood village in West Bengal, because to him, home is “where I grew up,” where his family still lives. He feels deeply connected to his roots in Jalpaiguri and often brings that sense of belonging into his art, drawing on nostalgia and a longing for the place he calls home. Even after living in Hyderabad for over 15 years, Biswajit still feels like a...
For Biswajit, home will always be his childhood village in West Bengal, because to him, home is “where I grew up,” where his family still lives.
He feels deeply connected to his roots in Jalpaiguri and often brings that sense of belonging into his art, drawing on nostalgia and a longing for the place he calls home.
Even after living in Hyderabad for over 15 years, Biswajit still feels like an outsider. That quiet, persistent sense of ""homelessness"" has become a defining part of both his identity and his art. He senses it in how the locals see him, and it has led to a constant questioning of where he truly belongs.
This quiet displacement often finds its way into his work. He returns, again and again, to childhood memories, to the landscapes that shaped him, and to trees - banana, palmyra, jackfruit - that once stood like silent companions in his village.
He feels deeply connected to his roots in Jalpaiguri and often brings that sense of belonging into his art, drawing on nostalgia and a longing for the place he calls home.
Even after living in Hyderabad for over 15 years, Biswajit still feels like an outsider. That quiet, persistent sense of ""homelessness"" has become a defining part of both his identity and his art. He senses it in how the locals see him, and it has led to a constant questioning of where he truly belongs.
This quiet displacement often finds its way into his work. He returns, again and again, to childhood memories, to the landscapes that shaped him, and to trees - banana, palmyra, jackfruit - that once stood like silent companions in his village.
.jpeg&w=750&q=75)
