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

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.

She is not loud. She is rooted. She is connected to the earth, the moon, the water, and the sun in ways that have nothing to do with mysticism and everything to do with attunement. She is the actual manifestation of nature vast, patient, cyclical, devastating when ignored and extraordinary when honoured.

We worship elements, objects, and people, calling them supernatural Yet all we are truly bowing to is life itself, pulsing through form.

भारतीय शिल्प चित्र आणि नाट्य परंपरेतील कथेचे नेतृत्व करणारे स्त्री पात्र. मानवातील विविध गुण आणि सौंदर्याचा समुच्चय म्हणजेच नायिका. वेगवेगळ्या प्रसंगातून, कथांमधून तिच्यातील गुण आणि सौंदर्य उलगडत जात कलारसिक तिच्यात आपल्या प्रिय व्यक्तीला पाहतात. तिच्या नेत्रकटाक्षाने घायाळ होणारे, साम्राज्य निर्माण किंवा उध्वस्त करणारे, वैराग्य प्राप्त करणारे किंवा उध्वस्त होणारे थोर नायक / खलनायक असे तिच्यात काय पाहतात ? तर या कहाण्या कालरूपात निर्माण करणारा कलाकार मात्र त्याच्या मनातील ती

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

Hiranya is the golden womb, the fierce tenderness, the cosmic fire, the immortal glow. She is the beginning of stories and the reason stories continue to be told. She is the one who teaches us that in every atom, every breath, every heart, there is a small, unbreakable piece of gold waiting for its fire.

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.

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.

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.

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.

An ancient rock looks like dragon egg on the bank of the ferocious ocean and dark skies is all a terrific combination. It was tempting to create a visual art through body movements and fabric.

I always question beliefs or ideas whenever I feel there is something wrong with what people say and my intuition speaks. We are taught...

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

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

या गवताळ कुरणावर वाऱ्यासोबत गप्पा गोष्टी करताना मी सर्वकाही विसरून जाते. ऊन, वारा आणि पाऊस यांच्या माऱ्यात देखील फुलणारी रानफुले पाहून मला क

वह तुम्हारी प्यास बुझाने वाली नहीं, बल्कि तुम्हारे भीतर का अथाह सागर दिखाने वाली है। बस यह तय करना है कि किसकी कहानी सुननी है और अपनी कहानी कैसे लिखनी है।

ज्या सोनेरी दगडांच्या मधून मध्ययुगात भारतीयत्व उत्कर्षाला पोहोचले ते विजयनगर साम्राज्य आजही जगभरातील लोकांना खुणावत आहे. त्या पाषाणांमधून...