Khushwant Singh once said of the Sikhs that "the world is their oyster". Well, now here are two Sikh sisters who image a thousand worlds within single gem-like pictures. Resplendent in colour and astounding in detail, their witty narrative is amazing in its deft manipulations of space, time and tradition. For, these very contemporary stories are painted in the style of the 16th century Mughal miniatures. Fresh, young and still evolving, the London- born twin sisters Amrit and Rabindra K.D. Kaur Singh are not the hottest brand in the international art scene yet but that may only be a matter of time.

THE ADORNING GAZE: Amrit (aovet) and Rabindra Kaur; and their Mughal-style portrait of Princess Diana (below)

With exhibitions and tours of the US, Canada and Europe slated for next year before they home in on India early in January 2003, the time of reckoning is surely at hand. Already their work has attracted much attention and comment in Britain where they are simply known as "The Twins". Art writer Julian Spalding says their work "is an act of faith" and adds, "We are so used to seeing art in the West which is cynical about human nature that these positive celebrations of life strike us as surprising." In an environment where the fascination for the macabre is the norm and animal carcasses abound art spaces, the highly decorative work of The Twins turns a full circle. Deborah Swallow, in a perceptive analysis of art history, extols "their engagement with contemporary culture and their continuing dialogue with questions of Asianess".

From Raja Ravi Varma to M.F. Husain, the pictorial dialectic of engagement between Indian tradition and what is perceived as contemporary (western?) reality has often been awkward at best and tortuous at worst. In the works of The Twins we have at long last a cross-cultural encounter that is neither a naive derivative of western trends nor a rash denial of the past. Just as all that is best in India, from Sikhism and Sufi music to Mughal miniatures, here is a genre of painting that is all about syncretic assimilation, juxtaposition and reinvention. What is important is that despite all their references and contextualisations, the works of The Twins have an incredible lightness of touch which is completely captivating to say the least.

A MODERN MASTERPIECE: The Last Supper dedicated to cha-cha Baldave (above) and a portrait of Madona (below)

So who are these girls? What are they all about? Dressed in identical light blue salwar kameez and adorned with elaborate kundan earrings, necklaces and armful of bangles, they breeze in with bright smiles at Delhi's Art Today gallery. "Papaji", their adoring father has been waiting for them here while they were visiting the mandarins of the local art establishment. A frequent presence in their works, and whose story is the subject of their wondrous All That I Am, their father K.D. Singh (an Amritsar-born doctor) is very much the centre of their world.

As one battles the mirror effect, Amrit and Rabindra speak almost in unison. It is difficult to tell where one left off and the other started. Just like their paintings, "We do everything together," they insist, "even if our works are occasionally signed singly, they are never completely of one of us." All twins tend to share extraordinary levels of symbiotic existence but in the case of The Twins it is a trifle exaggerated perhaps in keeping with their ornamental style.

They ascribe their choice of the Mughal miniature style to the fact that "we are largely self-taught, not having trained at any conventional art school," and the "opposition we had to face from the mainstream art world for being Asian and different". A course in comparative religion and western art history helped in resolving some vexing questions of identity. A visit to India in 1980 provided them their first exposure to the Mughal miniature style. "We realised that the West is bust and India is best," they chime, adding, "We even prefer Camlin paints to Windsor and Newton colours."

The work of The Twins relies on intricate detailing, layered spatial divisions and multiple time to conjure a meandering and anecdotal narrative. Were it not for their painstaking perfection of technique, the works would have fallen flat. But with an average of 420 hours of work in creating a single painting, the result is unlike anything seen in the Indo-European art scene in a long time. Welcome kudiyon (girls) to this timeless land that is the source of the gilded paradise of your benevolent gaze.