Through my autobiographical work, I seek the certitude of my identity from the personal level to the universal- as a diasporic immigrant, displaced dreamer, and minority freethinker. My creative process is evolving around my quest to know myself, my culture, my country, the world, and the universe in which I was born and lived. I construct, deconstruct and reconstruct my life experiences in the East and the West. To conceptualise that, I use my uprooted hair as the thread for embroidery and needlework, making dresses, patterns, and portraits. I use my thumbs and fingers instead of brushes or pencils to draw with ink on various surfaces.

Moreover, I repurposed objects from my daily life and modified them by adding my carefully stored discarded hair. I wanted to give my biological existence a place in my art. The process of collecting, cleaning, and storing hair one by one is like a mindful ritual for me, carefully arranged activities like taking care of someone or something. Human hair is a filamentous biomaterial that contains dead cells and DNA; my hair contains my DNA, representing me or my self-portrait. The way hair falls from our bodies, leaves fall from trees, and seeds disperse for germination, migration, and displacement happens in nature every moment; it is part of life.

Textiles and embroidery are integral parts of Bangladeshi cultural heritage; Bengal textiles have had a rich history. Many great museums display Bengal textile art; my work represents that part of ancestral identity with a contemporary twist. Long, black hair is a mandatory feature of female beauty in Bangladeshi culture; I inherited the colour of my hair from my grandmother, whom I never saw because she died in childbirth. Perhaps I decided to cherish that embroidery culture and treasure the legacy of storytelling through my art. Characteristically, my work is interdisciplinary; I prefer to combine media, techniques, and concepts to convey the complexity of modern life in time and space.