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.

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.

What we’re making is not just art to be “looked at” — it’s something to be felt slowly, like poetry unfolding. We want to bring you closer to a time when love, dance, poetry, and celebration were a natural part of life. A time when women were honoured as sacred, when festivals like Vasant Utsav filled both villages and palaces with joy, and when beauty was not the tool of capitalism but seen as something sacred and beyond the physical.

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.

माटी कहे कुम्हार से, तु क्या रोंदे मोय। एक दिन ऐसा आएगा, मैं रौदूंगी तोय।। कबीर वाणीतील हे अनमोल शब्द मनाला जेव्हा अहंकार घट्ट पकडतो...