Silent Observer: Artist Manoj Aggarwal's sculptures capture the rhythm of urban life and ordinary people
Primarily a figurative artist, Aggarwal often turns his gaze to women—sometimes lost in thought, seated in stillness, some with wings dreaming, or simply admiring themselves. 'In women figures, there is a rhythm. I picked them out of the rhythm, the contour, and the aesthetic sense of that figure,' he says. His women reflect the simplicity of daily life—draped in blouses, skirts, dhotis, or sarees. They are from our society and surroundings — from those working in markets to those we see in our own homes.
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Time of India
11-08-2025
- Time of India
Chashni and chaos: An ode to the Indian mithai ki dukaan
Hazaaron Khwashein Aisi Ki Har Khwaish Pe Dam Nikle; Bahut Nikle Mere Armaan Lekin Phir Bhi Kam Nikle… – Mirza Ghalib (perhaps, when he could not get his hands on his favourite sohan halwa from Ghantewala) Teej, Rakhi, Janmashtami, each of these festivals has begun to arrive, unabashed and unapologetic. Thus, officially, the great Indian festival season is upon us. During the festive season, every Indian city feels like it has been slow-cooked in desi ghee, garnished with pista, scented with khus-khus, and infused with treacly sweetness. And if you follow your nose through the gullies, you inevitably land up in front of the shrine of all this collective longing: the quintessential Indian sweet shop. The mithai ki dukaan where a rhapsodic symphony of food, craving, and appetite is being whipped up. And lest I have not made myself amply clear: this is not the boutique mithai shop of a five-star hotel, but the kind of sweet shop that exists in every colony and every market. It does not matter what it is called – Aggarwal or Gupta. The name, after all, is just a formality, as the shop is a shape-shifter – the ownership might change, but the items sold remain remarkably the same. Inside, the shop is an olfactory purist's delight (or nightmare, depending on whom you ask). It is a veritable theatre (or assault?) of the senses – stainless steel counters, open trays stacked with rabri or malai-covered melt-in-the-mouth ghevars, and pyramids of choti and badi boondi ke laddoo. There is no line, just a shifting, organic crowd powered by elbows and the ability to holler the loudest. An aunty in a cotton saree, smelling faintly of Pond's talcum powder, has taken the spot you were eyeing – with a look on her face that tells you that she could conquer empires for that last piece of kalakand. Meanwhile, an uncle is explaining to his teenage son the difference between Kaju Katli (unprompted, may I add – it is the oblation of the Gods) and Kaju Roll. The boy nods with the sullen resignation of someone who knows no escape until the box is packed and the invoice settled. A young, newly married couple is tasting samples like it is the cheese bar, nibbling at morsels of barfis, eyes slightly narrowed. There is considerable debate in a hushed tone. The husband prefers 'thoda kam meetha', but the wife rolls her eyes so hard that even Gabbar Singh would be petrified to argue with her. Ultimately, she wins (was there ever any doubt?) and they leave with 1.5 kilos of barfi that neither of them fully agreed upon. Ah, the vagaries of marriage. And then there is that guy, you know, the one on a Bluetooth call, simultaneously placing an order and closing a deal, saying things like, 'Haan bhaiya, teen dabbe aur pack kar do. No, not that. The one with the badam on top. And yes, push the proposal to Monday – Rakhi hai boss'. He is the peak of multitasking masculinity, and you want to both mock and salute him. Behind the counter, the staff is part-human and part-machine. The halwai does not ask what you want because he knows. He has been serving your family since before you could pronounce chamcham, he remembers your brother's engagement order, your grandfather's 70th birthday order, and that time you tried to smuggle away dhodha barfis while coming back from school. He zealously guards the jalebi and imarti trays like they hold state secrets. He packages sweets by slipping in an extra piece if he likes your vibe or looks at you like a concerned elder if you try to buy just 250 grams. And then there is you, caught between nostalgia and neurosis. You are here for a box of gulab jamuns, but somehow, you could not resist picking up mathura ke pede and some delectable besan laddoos. You wonder why you always buy too much, and also why it never feels enough. You leave the shop, already wondering who deserves which piece, and whether you will manage not to eat three gulab jamuns in the parking lot while pretending to make a call. There's something wildly comforting about this mess. No one is pretending here. There are no Instagram-influencer-friendly corners, and no muted palettes that have somehow become associated with a type of faux sophistication which would be laudatory, if not so empty. The local sweet shop is a seasonal portal to who we were and who we pretend to be; a scene of indulgence, and the sangam of taste and memory. It amplifies the idea that mithai in India is an emotional compass. You know exactly where you are in someone's heart, depending on the weight of the mithai box they hand you. A half-kilo? You are just about tolerable. One kilo? You have done something right. Two kilos? They are probably feeling guilty about something. And it is in these small, glowing shops, that the festive glow lives. And you, dear reader, are part of this symphony, coming back every year for another delicacy dripping with redolent chashni. Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
New Indian Express
02-08-2025
- New Indian Express
Silent Observer: Artist Manoj Aggarwal's sculptures capture the rhythm of urban life and ordinary people
Artist Manoj Aggarwal is a quiet observer of city life, drawing inspiration from ordinary people, and the simple stories that unfold around them. His ongoing exhibition, 'Silent Observer', showcases paintings and sculptures that capture the lives of the working class, his interpretations of deities, and moments laced with gentle satire. Primarily a figurative artist, Aggarwal often turns his gaze to women—sometimes lost in thought, seated in stillness, some with wings dreaming, or simply admiring themselves. 'In women figures, there is a rhythm. I picked them out of the rhythm, the contour, and the aesthetic sense of that figure,' he says. His women reflect the simplicity of daily life—draped in blouses, skirts, dhotis, or sarees. They are from our society and surroundings — from those working in markets to those we see in our own homes.
India Today
27-07-2025
- India Today
With ‘Arcanum', Amit Aggarwal weaves biology into the fabric of couture
No showstopper closed Amit Aggarwal's showcase at the 18th Hyundai India Couture Week 2025 because none was needed. His collection didn't just impress his loyal connoisseurs; it transported everyone present into a world where star power felt unnecessary. The clothes were the spectacle – futuristic and designer unveiled 'Arcanum', a collection that strips couture down to its elemental core, human biology. With this showcase, Aggarwal trades surface-level drama for something deeper: the invisible architecture that shapes life itself, our DNA. Amit Aggarwal's Arcanum decodes the human form into pleats, spirals, and metallic grace. (Photo: Instagram/FDCI) advertisementIf his previous collection, Antevorta, explored the fluidity of time, Arcanum is its genetic counterpart. The double helix, the three-dimensional structure of DNA, serves both as a symbol and a structural blueprint for the entire collection. Aggarwal's creativity takes it further, translating the code of life into sculpted silhouettes, precise pleats, and spiralling forms that had the audience fully captivated on the as Anatomy Each look in Arcanum is a wearable metaphor: gowns that twist like strands of genetic code, suits and co-ords that layer sharp tailoring with swirling, organic lines. This is metallic polymers meet traditional textiles (Ikat), structured forms stretch and curve like bioengineered exoskeletons. The result: a hybrid of future and heritage. You could see that coming for the colours that have been used in the collection. The collection was all about innovative materials like metallic polymers and reimagined traditional fabrics. (Photo: Instagram/FDCI) Deep jewel tones grounded the collection in richness, while electric reds, iconic blues, and high-sheen metallics gave it a transcendent, otherworldly edge. The interplay between charcoal, silver, and light-reactive surfaces added a sense of motion and mood, alive and shifting like DNA itself. Sculpted couture meets the sparkle of tourmalines, tanzanites and emeralds. (Photo: Instagram/FDCI) This collection was Aggarwal's vision of blending scientific, artistic, and luxurious elements into couture.A statement, not just a showIf we were to sum the show up for you guys, it was sublime, surreal, with elements that felt otherworldly, but at the same time grounded, as each piece had a story of its own. This time, the couture week wanted to break its identity as just a bridal showcase, and it is safe to say Amit Aggarwal's 2025 couture collection was able to do it to a great extent.- Ends
