MUMBAI, Sept. 25 -- On Tuesday evening, as visitors streamed into the Artists' Centre in Kala Ghoda, something unusual marked the opening of the exhibition Echoes of Silence. Instead of the familiar buzz of chatter, the gallery filled with a quiet rhythm - hands moving swiftly and gracefully in every direction. It was a conversation, but one spoken entirely in sign language. The silence itself became the essence of the exhibition-a meditation on how the absence of language can create isolation, and how sign language can transform that silence into connection. "For much of my childhood, I had no language at all," recalled curator and organiser Alim Chandani, founder of Freedom to Sign, which brought the exhibition to Mumbai after its debut in Bengaluru last year. "At my boarding school, there was no sign language. On weekends at my aunt's home, I could not connect either. I had no way of making sense of the world around me. To cope, I created imaginary friends who listened to me, who stayed with me. Even now, at 44, I still feel the residue of that abandonment. Somewhere, my younger self is still waiting to be heard." For many deaf children, this longing stretches across a lifetime. Yet, Echoes of Silence suggests that what begins as loneliness can be transformed into strength when embraced through sign language, rather than eroded by a culture that insists on oralism and hearing aids. Chandani's own turning point came at 21, when he entered college and learned to sign. "For the first time, I saw other deaf people. I realised I wasn't alone. I found identity, family, and belonging. It was a new world where I was finally considered normal." The artworks on display reflect this journey - from isolation to empowerment. Photographer Srivatsan Sankaran's series captures the weight of growing up without language, his images evoking the thorns that pierce the mind in silence. Digital artist Himanshu Kansal, who works under the name Luv, created a piece showing a hand clutching a rose stem - the rose symbolising communication, its thorns cutting into the skin when expression is forced or denied. "When children lack the means to express themselves, their growth and self-awareness are delayed," Kansal explained. "But with the right language, they can bloom like flowers." Some works leaned into metaphor-artist Vivek Kumar's striking sculpture of a head fused to an oversized ear, evokes the fractures of a voice never fully heard. Painter Akanksha Kamble drew directly from her own story, "I grew up deaf, without access to sign language. It left me isolated. Discovering Indian Sign Language gave me identity, community, and a way to create. My art reflects both the pain of abandonment and the hope of connection." Thane-based painter Shreya Gupta contributed haunting portraits where ears are replaced by fish and faces blur into distortion, while Hardeep Singh's digital fragments push the theme further into abstraction. The exhibition also screened a short documentary by filmmaker Ashwin Babu, and a film featuring Chandani himself performing poetry in Indian Sign Language. But perhaps the most moving part of the evening was not the art, but the way the audience engaged with it - hands flying, faces lighting up, conversations flowing without effort. "True friendships grow naturally when you can converse freely," Chandani said....