“You feel like you’re walking. You never unlace your shoes,” says artist Veer Munshi, describing the feeling of being away from his home—Kashmir. He calls this distance a restlessness that has marked his life ever since leaving Kashmir 35 years ago. “You don’t feel settled. You just keep walking,” he adds.
This sense of displacement lies at the heart of Munshi’s art practice. Two of his works, currently on display as part of ‘Ascending Roots’ at Delhi’s Ojas Art, reflect on exile, resilience, and the deliberate act of healing. His pieces are displayed alongside works by Manjunath Kamath, both of whom were previously exhibited at the Jaipur Literature Festival 2025.
The show, presented by Anubhav Nath, curatorial director of Ojas Art, highlights contemporary urban artists whose work remains deeply rooted in Indian aesthetics. Munshi’s creations often appear like “fractured carpets”—meticulously assembled from fragments that resemble shrapnel, stitched together with motifs drawn from Kashmir’s craft traditions. Each fragment tells a story from the state. “When you see Kashmir from afar, it looks beautiful. But when you go close, there’s conflict. You’re healing that conflict through these pieces. I try to archive what is lost—the cultural nuances, the places, the iconography. It’s a fractured surface, but also a surface of healing,” he explains.
Munshi’s art is rooted in traditional Kashmiri craftsmanship—papier-mâché, chain stitch, Kari-e-Kalamkari, and other fading arts that serve as both medium and storyteller. His long engagement with Kari-e-Kalamkari, a paper-mâché technique practiced by craftsmen in Srinagar, is an act of revival. Working alongside these artisans, he learned the fragility of such traditions and their slow disappearance amid economic uncertainty and a lack of social respectability. “This craft may not last long,” he says, visibly concerned. “Even a simple shawl will become an antique tomorrow because the next generation is not making it. But if artists engage with crafts—bring them into contemporary practice—maybe it will survive.”
Munshi often visits Kashmir and describes returning as his “oxygen.” “People ask me why I keep going back. I tell them, oxygen doesn’t come from lakes or gardens; it comes from people. From talking to them, hearing their stories, being with them,” he says.
After decades of navigating exile, Munshi’s voice carries the calm of someone who has learned to walk through memory without bitterness. “Some people feel angry about the situation,” he reflects. “I don’t. I put my energy into my work. When you release, you keep moving.”
On view at Ojas Art, 1AQ, Mehrauli, until November 1, from 11 am onwards.
