She comes to the waterfall the way water comes to itself on impulse, remembering its own nature. The nine-yard saree moves with her the same way. That white cloth hasn't yet remembered its cloth. I sometimes think they must both believe they're the river.

Her charm gives her the name of a siren, just like Medusa, who was the priestess of Athena. Her charm and the ability to see through you frighten everyone. And then the myth of demonising isolates her. Truth has its own cost, and she bears it on the tip of the whip. When she wields it in her hand and cracks it, the hypnotised heart comes to its senses.

Her company cures all the KARMA piled up since ages. Her intuition guides not only you but the generations coming in the future. Her womb is not a physical space to claim but a doorway to the world unknown. She is the one who is living proof of creating without division or dying. Your system called her witch, a Rakshasi. But she is RAKSHA misunderstood by the one who cannot sense the true energy that we all need to heal.

You are the holy desire that carries me from flesh to beyond. Trishna is the one who stands beyond all pretence, laying bare every illusion and theory. You are the harbinger of storm and calm, both at once. You are the eternal question, where the answer lies hidden within itself.

आयुष्यातील सर्वात सुंदर क्षणांपैकी एक म्हणजे पावसात भिजणे. आज जो पाऊस आहे तो उद्या वाट पाहायला लावेल, कधी आपणच त्याच्यापर्यंत पोहोचू शकणार नाही. तो कोसळताना आपण निर्माण केलेले कुठलेही भेद तो पाहत नाही. आपण सर्व त्याच्यातूनच निर्माण झालेलो आपल्या आत खेळणारा तोच. जेव्हा तो नर्तन करायला येतो तेव्हा आपण बाहेर पडायलाच हवे. मग ती लहान मुले असोत, वृद्ध असोत, मुली असोत, स्त्रिया असोत कोणीही असो. त्या नर्तनातले, भिजण्यातले सुख हेच खरे नैसर्गिक सुख. कोणी पाहो वा आपण एकटे असू तो पाऊस

I have always carried this question inside me like water carries the light. Bending and blending it beautifully. Why is a man drawn toward beauty ? Why do we seek cinema, photographs, paintings, sculptures? Why do we fall in love not only with the beauty but also the reflection of beauty ?

एक कलाप्रवासी म्हणून मला एक प्रश्न कायम सतावतो शाळांमधून अजिंठा, वेरूळ, खजुराहो यावर लेक्चर्स का नव्हती ? आपल्या संस्कृतीची अशी अर्धवट ओळख आपल्याला का दिली गेली ? मानवी शरीर हे जीवशास्त्राच्या पलीकडेपण सौंदर्य आणि प्रमाणबद्धतेचे एक अद्भुत उदाहरण आहे हे आपल्याला कलेच्या माध्यमातून का शिकवले गेले नाही ? कालिदासाचे काव्य वाचवले नाही. कामसूत्र हे केवळ ‘त्या’ गोष्टीचे पुस्तक आहे असा समज मनावर ठेवला गेला.

"Even as she lifts the water-pot to her head, her waist bends like a vine in the wind. O traveller, why do you hurry? Stay a little. The road can wait." -Gatha Saptashati She is not the nayika of perfumed chambers. She is closer to the poetry of a couplet immediate, unadorned and devastating.Someone who doesn't mind disappearing into the ripple of water or rising on wind like a bird's feather has already made her peace with impermanence.

She Who Is the Earth Remembering Herself There are mornings when the forest holds its breath. On the juncture of the first ray of the sun touching down into the valley when everything is still. Only the birds have just awakened and started their routine chirping. When the pond does not ripple so much as breathe a slow, silver exhaling that has no beginning and no end. When the breeze does not move the trees but moves through them, the way a raga moves through a musician’s li

A conceptual shoot portraying the pure elemental beauty depicted in white. Sensual feminine form in the white fabric, white cowry jewellery , the white coral remains of the ocean, waves on the clean beach.

अनादी काळापासून या धरणीवरती वारा आपल्या मस्तीत वाहतोय. कधी तुफान तर कधी वावटळ कधी सोसाट्याने तर कधी गुंजारव करीत. तुम्ही कधी त्याला बदलू शकता का किंवा तसा प्रयत्न केला का ? तुम्ही कधी त्याला दोष दिला तर कधी त्याच्या शीतलतेने प्रेमात पडले पण तो मात्र तसाच वाहतोय. समुद्राच्या लाटांना हाकारीत, गवताळ कुरणावरून लहान मुलासारखा नक्षी बनवीत तर रानावनात जोरजोरात शिट्ट्या मारीत. फारतर आपण पवनचक्कीने त्याची ऊर्जा स्वतःसाठी वापरू शकतो किंवा बासरीतून सुंदर संगीत निर्माण करू शकतो. परंतु त्

Far from the village, where the tall trees cast long, shifting shadows over the grass, we find a place that feels untouched by the rest of the world. The soft ringing of bells from the sheep drifts through the air, steady and unhurried, like time itself has slowed to match us. In that space, nothing feels incomplete. I do not find myself wanting more, or elsewhere, or beyond. Her presence, close and unspoken, becomes enough.

पावसाळ्याचा अवखळपणा जाऊन वातावरणातील रुजलेली थंडी. हालचाली गोठविणारी निळीशार पहाट आणि नदीवरती पोहणारी धुक्याची अजून एक नदी. सूर्याच्या पहिल्या किरणासोबतच वितळत वातावरणाशी एकरूप होत आसमंत पवित्र करणारे जल त्या मंदिराला साक्षात स्वर्गरूप प्रदान करते. काळ्या पाषाणाला जिवंत करणारे ते हात पंचतत्वात विलीन झाले तरी रोज सूर्यकिरणांच्या रूपात पुन्हापुन्हा त्याच्या सर्वांगाशी खेळत त्याला जल स्नानसोबत सूर्य स्नान देखील घडवितात. आणि एके दिवशी अचानक हेमंत ( हिवाळा ) संपून शिशिरात संक्रमण

Kāma, as the third पुरुषार्थ ( Puruṣārtha ) is a strong pillar of society, yet it is mistaken as lust. When pushed into secrecy, it deranges us silently and creates a crippled, damaged society. Kāma is the original expression from Bindu a potent and powerful seed that bursts and creates an entire life ( स्फोट ).

She is a river of bliss, flowing eternally. She glows as she twists and turns, taking even the hardest souls on her wild currents and smoothing them with the gentle brush of time. She is sensual, curvy, soothing, and at times ferocious according to the moment. Yet this eternal flow often rises within beings as the feminine itself. She awakens what has long been still, stirring what is capable of blooming but afraid to move. She arouses you in mind and body, and the ancient se

In everyday life, in our daily struggle to survive and thrive, there are a few moments worth pausing, relaxing, and appreciating. What are those? When we are younger, we are eager to grow older; when young, we chase something; and when time slips by, we make failed attempts to remain young.

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.

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.

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.