A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn..
On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn..
On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn..
“Here’s a mountain we climbed, where a burnished pathway leads to nowhere but oneself… here’s a river we crossed and pitched our tent next to, where its rhythm cradled us into dreams and an awakening to the beginning of another… here’s a place we have found where worldly words have no meaning… here’..
“Here’s a mountain we climbed, where a burnished pathway leads to nowhere but oneself… here’s a river we crossed and pitched our tent next to, where its rhythm cradled us into dreams and an awakening to the beginning of another… here’s a place we have found where worldly words have no meaning… here’..
“Here’s a mountain we climbed, where a burnished pathway leads to nowhere but oneself… here’s a river we crossed and pitched our tent next to, where its rhythm cradled us into dreams and an awakening to the beginning of another… here’s a place we have found where worldly words have no meaning… here’..
On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn..
On a winter afternoon in the Himalayas, whether it is the foothills of Uttarakhand or the sublime vallies in the mighty ranges of Ladakh or Nepal, a typical courtyard scene comprises of grandmothers and mothers either fending the freshly reared wool, spinning it and weaving or knitting the spun-yarn..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
Red… the colour of blood, of life, vitality… red, the colour of the Mother Goddess, the embodiment of power, the nurturer and destroyer… the protector..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
A familiar chatter swells in the air as feet chase the trail of a carelessly flying odhani in the by-lanes of Bhuj, spilling colors all over. While&nb..
Some wandering rays of an aimless light,Carelessly slipped into my loom the previous night…Their whimsical sparks got woven away,Within the mortal str..
Some wandering rays of an aimless light, Carelessly slipped into my loom the previous night… Their whimsical sparks got woven away, Within the mortal ..
“If an image has to be made, it must be made of wax first” Vishnusamhita, 5th century AD.Under clouds of smoke emanating from earthen lamps, amid batt..