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.

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