feminism

She walks in the shadows, merging into the forest. All of a sudden, fog descends upon the meadows and hides her from view. She moves like a small rivulet flowing unseen, hidden from everyone’s eyes, deep inside the forest.

She is not down to earth — she is the earth herself. She lives by the cosmic truth, connected to the pulse of creation, breathing in rhythm with the soil and the stars. She bleeds with the waxing and waning of the moon, gives birth, nourishes, and transforms seeds into beings that walk this sacred plane.

प्रश्न कला बोल्ड आहे का नाही, तो नाही. प्रश्न आहे  स्त्रीला स्वतः ठरवण्याचा अधिकार आहे का नाही. कारण जेव्हा ती ठरवते, तेव्हा ती केवळ कला निर्मित नाही करत ती इतिहास घडवत असते.आणि इतिहास लिहून ठेवतो आपण तिला गप्प बसवलं, की तिच्या सोबत उभं राहिलो.

A reflection on art, culture, and the feminine form The Question of “Bold” “Why do you do such bold work?”“Don’t you feel shame in...

There was a time when life was not measured in hours or wealth, but in the rhythm of the heartbeat and the pulse of the earth. Humanity lived naked before the elements—facing hunger, storms, the vast unknown.

What is a fabric or a costume or a fashion ? Names, colours, texture, design changes but the soul remains the same. Just like the primordial mycelium network expanding, communicating and covering the whole earth like a carpet, the grass that covers the bare rocks and decorating them with its green design.

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 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

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

what is sacred or pure ?  Anything that is beneficial to us becomes sacred to us. We preserve , respect and gives sanctity to that element o

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