The return is not because you are lost, not because you are scared or alone but because something ancient inside you remembers the calling.The darkness humming with the breath, the stone walls curved like the first womb you knew deep inside.

Freed from toil, her body becomes a temple, her senses awake to every touch of water, wind, and sun. The bath is an offering, a dialogue between the self and the cosmos, where every droplet reflects light, life, and possibility.

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.

Can we celebrate life without inhibition? The cold wind wrapping around the body as fabric, the delicate designs of water droplets drawn by clouds, each drop trickling down the spine—this is the thrill of living each moment fully in the present. To be part of divinity like a baby who knows no shame, no guilt, only trust in the arms of nature.

Photography is the younger sibling of sculpture and painting.What the eyes have seen, what stirred the heart, what awakened a feeling, all of it is captured through this medium, woven together with science and art.

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.

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