Rachita's works trace the pendulum that swings between the identities we perform and the emotions we suppress.
Rachita Dutta’s works don’t sit before you like orderly, grown-up, and well-regulated emotions pinned neatly in place. They refuse to behave, to stay still, or to be easily defined.
They are unruly, loud, tender, and restless, but also whimsical, humorous, and deeply childlike.
Born from the everyday weight of adulthood, her works bottle the long awkward pauses, the swallowed words, the uneasy squirms, and the unaddressed anger bubbling inside of us, that we learn to hide from. And yet despite the heaviness of the emotions, each work is illuminated with the startling clarity of an innocent, unguarded gaze.
These works emerge from moments that are often swept under the rug, the white elephant in the room we never quite acknowledged, the sting of being misunderstood, and the pause before we utter the bitter truth. Rendered in vivid shades of pink, green, yellow, and blue, hand-embroidered and assembled to create a playful, fairy-tale-like world that recalls simpler times, before technology became our primary source of knowledge and old wives’ tales were accepted as the undisputed truth. The use of motifs such as birthday candles, melting ice-cream sundaes, birds, balloons, a matchbox, and a contemplative girl evokes a humorously cartoon-like quality that draws you in, but it is the depth beneath that lingers, inviting viewers to introspect and look beyond the first glance.
Having grown up in Jammu (Jammu & Kashmir), where embroidery and stitching are deeply rooted craft traditions, Rachita gravitated instinctively toward textile embroidery, finding in it a natural extension of her surroundings and memories. The striking colour palette used throughout her body of work mirrors the vibrant hues of Jammu & Kashmir’s landscape, carrying the essence of her homeland into every stitch.
But the works ask that the viewer let analysis rest for a moment. They aren’t to be pinned down or solved; they remain intentionally open-ended. There are countless ways to meet them, and countless ways they might look back. Come closer, engage with them, and in that encounter, you may catch a glimpse of yourself you hadn’t seen before or meet a long-lost cherished part of yourself you didn't realise was banished so deep down.
–Salonie Ganju, 2026
