The screen was a blur of deep crimson. A figure, neither male nor female, sat on a simple charpoy. They wore nothing but a single, raw-cut diamond earring and a smear of kohl. The backdrop was a crumbling haveli, its walls weeping with dampness.

The next week, the theme was "Draping." The performer—known only as Heer —emerged from a pool of black ink. Still unclothed, but wrapped in nothing but a single, torn fishing net and the light from a single projector. The way the shadows cut across their ribs created the illusion of a corset. The way they moved made the net look like a ten-thousand-dollar gown.