apsara

The flow of the universe comes to us in the form of various states of the objects. Some seen others that can be felt. The senses makes things to be felt. And the things from which we derive pleasure become sensual. The play of life happens through ancient primordial sound. We call it Naad. The interaction of the Bindus ( dots / atoms ) and their dance creates the magical sound. 

A continuous stream of energy flows down from the mountaintop into the valley. She is gentle yet incredibly powerful—an elemental force both sensual and fierce. Refreshing, cold, and full of life. She cannot be owned, yet she lives within all of us.

They say — change is one thing, acceptance is another.Life flows endlessly, like a river finding its own path.Yet we hold on to things long gone,Echoes of the past that no longer exist in the present.

A sky darkened with clouds,A wild wind roaring through,And the sea, raging in its own stormy rhythm. In that moody afternoon,The poet...

Whenever I watch paintings or  sculptures from the masters  of medical or ancient Bharat a sense of calm enters into my mind. My gaze travels across the artwork in a rhythm that they have found in nature and poured it into their artwork.

The twilight hour welcomes her to play on the earth. She enters through your ears by whispering soft murmur of the sleep that is going to...

 The world awakens from the sleep when she greets them with her smile. She is the messenger who breathes life into everyone. She is Usha.

She is the one who sings her own tune irrespective of your opinions. She exists on her own vibing with the cosmic music.

थक कर, हार कर, एक दिन तुम आओगे, सब कुछ छोड़, सब कुछ भूल मेरी गोद में विश्राम पाओगे।

I always question beliefs or ideas whenever I feel there is something wrong with what people say and my intuition speaks. We are taught...

दिवस आणि रात्रीच्या सीमेवरती घुटमळणारी ती वेळ. दिवसभराची लगबग संपलेली आणि जरा कुठे उसंत मिळाली असताना सायंकाळ हळुवारपणे येते. कुणाचा तरी जीव

She stands, a vision of grace, draped in moonlight’s tender weave—A white saree flowing like mist over silent earth’s sleeve.The blue of her

Whatever that defies our logic or fixed moral norms suddenly shocks us collectively. But if looked deep within that same energy finds space

कौन थे वे हाथ, जिन्होंने पत्थरों में प्राण भरे? सैकड़ों हाथ, मन और हृदय एक संग खिले।

A woman who embraces her inner tigress carries these qualities within her. She endures life’s daily struggles with courage

Things that cover me up is not me . Nor the skin that you see. मुझे जो ढकता है, वो मैं नहीं हूँ। न ही वो त्वचा, जो तुम्हें दिखती है।

खुले आकाश के नीचे, सुबह की बेला में तारे धीरे-धीरे ओझल हो चुके हैं। वे समुद्र किनारे पर हल्के से डोल रहे हैं। श्वेत वस्त्रों में एक-दूसरे में लिपटे हुए, प्रकाश में घुलते जा रहे हैं, और उनकी नाजुक परछाईं गीली रेत पर

या गवताळ कुरणावर वाऱ्यासोबत गप्पा गोष्टी करताना मी सर्वकाही विसरून जाते. ऊन, वारा आणि पाऊस यांच्या माऱ्यात देखील फुलणारी रानफुले पाहून मला क

वह तुम्हारी प्यास बुझाने वाली नहीं, बल्कि तुम्हारे भीतर का अथाह सागर दिखाने वाली है। बस यह तय करना है कि किसकी कहानी सुननी है और अपनी कहानी कैसे लिखनी है।

अथांग अंधाराच्या पार्शवभूमीवर टिमटिमणाऱ्या ताऱ्याच्या प्रकाशाला सर्वांगाने व्यापून उरणारी ती. अव्यक्ताला व्यक्त करणारी ऊर्जा. काल या...