he language of beauty resides into the eternal truth that is overflowing from the atom to the Milky Way. Time and again the same thing that is discussed here in various ways. But just like that the same feminine form or the same water droplet or the same grass or the forest gives us delight. Only because it is in sync with the nature of the cosmos and loyal to the nature of the self.

This is a tribute to the women who make that dream visible without ever asking to be noticed the ones we walk past every day, whose quiet grace we mistake for the ordinary. And then there is her.

an I define her ? Even after thousand embraces and millions of kisses ? I don’t think so. What she gives me is completely related to my own experiences and emotions. Each time she feels different to me. Her warmth , her sharp eyes , her voice , her care through small gestures like leaning on my shoulder or just her hand resting on me. But again this is all subjective.

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.

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.

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.

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