New Delhi, April 9 -- In my mind, I compare looking at photographs of one's childhood to throwing a beloved object into the sea. It returns, undoubtedly, but it appears altered, and we cannot help but admire the object for the novel and unexpected attributes it reveals itself to have. It reminds us that we too have transformed in the interim, washed by the waves of time. It is even stranger to look at photographs of someone else's childhood. We don't have the memories or the myths to enter them and we must look for portals that emerge from our own experiences. To me, the photographs that artist Saubiya Chasmawala has used for almost a decade in her paintings are nevertheless quite familiar. I have known first-hand the kind of grave sites ...