Perhaps Radhakrishnan achieves this because of the way he looks at people. He sees every human as a repository of innumerable possibilities. Some of which may be realised, but others are nonetheless equally important to relate to, if one is to appreciate the universality of man's cultural responses.

Radhakrishnan's present series are inspired by a young Santhal boy, Musui, who would come and watch the sculptor in silence. In real life, Musui works in a tea shop today, but in the sculpture of Radhakrishnan, he has become the paradigm of humanity. Born an outcast, he becomes a brahmin. He is male and female and sometimes both, gyrating in an ovoid space that gives him an eternal significance and immortality.

The contemporaneity of Radhakrishnan is evident from the way he has been able to weave space and bronze together, as though they were the same medium. The eye slides easily enough along his surfaces, leaps across space and is caught up in another space. This process allows the viewer to free himself aesthetically and travel through the spaces he has etched out like a trapeze artist to feel the freedom to which a human existence binds us. This is why it is necessary to look at his Musui bound up by his sacred thread in relation to the female figure who has broken free of it and uses it as a bow-string to propel herself into the future.

Radhakrishnan's sculptures not only assimilate the influences of the past in consonance with the expression of the present, they also remind us that man's destiny is tied up with his freedom, and slavery can only be a temporary state of affairs. The message is obviously one that points out to us the grandeur of the human condition. And it indeed is a great sculpture that can embody such a message as effectively as Radhakrishnan's sculptures do.