Topographies Beneath Texts

Withered Railway Sleeper, Paper Notes, Forceps

This work began from an old railway sleeper block I found in a timber market in Pune. It had been lying there for years - its surface darkened, its edges eaten by time, weather, and termites. The wood, once built for movement, had become still; its body quietly recording the slow work of time.

I have always been drawn to writing - filling notebooks with scattered notes and reflections. Over time, I realised that no two pages truly connect. Each entry exists in isolation, bound only by the spine of the book. The text and the surface that holds it - paper, wood, wall - depend on one another, yet remain separate. One carries; the other contains. Without the surface, the text has no body; without the text, the surface remains mute.

Material and Process

The installation consists of a single, weathered railway sleeper, its surface punctured by small holes - marks left by decay and use. Into these openings I inserted rolled paper notes, fragments of writing drawn from my diaries. Some were visible; others were hidden deep within the wood. A small forceps was placed beside the object. Viewers could use it to gently extract the rolled notes, read them, and - if they wished - add their own. They could also take a note with them.

This act of “reading” the wood became a long, patient pursuit. Each extraction altered the piece, transforming it through touch, curiosity, and exchange. The work became an open archive - its topography shaped by those who chose to engage with it.

A Ghost Story

This act of “reading” the wood became a long, patient pursuit. It brings to mind a scene from the 2017 film A Ghost Story. The ghost, tethered to his former home, spends an eternity trying to retrieve a tiny, folded note his wife hid in a wall. His entire existence becomes this single, silent pursuit.

The meaning isn’t just in the note he finally reads - it lies in the obsessive, timeless act of searching within the structure.

Similarly, the notes within Topographies Beneath Texts are not meant to be preserved or decoded; their significance emerges through the act of finding, unfolding, replacing. Each gesture - of extraction, addition, or return - becomes its own form of inscription.

Topographies Beneath Texts  asks what lies beneath the visible layer of language? Every written mark rests upon something older - wood, paper, dust, skin, time. The work draws attention to that substrate: the material ground that silently carries thought.

Just as the railway sleeper once bore the weight of passing trains, this piece now holds the weight of written memory - eroding, renewed, and carried forward by each participant. Meaning, perhaps, is never fixed. It continues to move, passed hand to hand, like a note hidden inside a wall - waiting to be read, and then rewritten.