A single open hand, palm turned upward, fills most of the canvas. The fingers point down and slightly apart, relaxed rather than posed. At the centre of the palm, a small eight-petalled lotus is painted in cream outline with deep red fill — a mark rather than a held object, as if it were drawn into the skin itself. Behind the hand, a dark red disc sits partly eclipsed by the palm, glowing against a mottled ground of purple, ochre and gold worked in loose, uneven strokes. It reads as…

An old woman sits on a length of driftwood with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes closed. Beside her, a round earthenware vase holding two bare branches. A few stones on the ground. Nothing else. The face carries the drawing. It is drawn with restraint rather than detail — the lines at the mouth, the hollow beneath the cheekbone, the fold of the eyelid, the hair pulled back and falling either side. Enough to know exactly how old she is and that she is not asleep, only…

They are seated close, turned inward, looking at each other. Her hand rests on his shoulder. His arm lies across a bolster; her fingers hold a lotus bud between them. Neither is looking out of the picture. Shiva is drawn with everything the earlier drawings in this series gave separately — the jata knotted high with the crescent set into it, the serpent at the throat with its hood raised, the rudraksha falling in long strands, the tripundra and third eye at the brow. The trishul stands planted to the…

Nandi fills the right half of the drawing, seated and turned in profile, head lifted. The horns curve back, the ears fall, and heavy strands of bells and rudraksha hang from the neck in three loops. The body is drawn with a light, rounded line — soft where the shoulder turns, denser at the folds of the neck and the hocks of the folded legs. He is enormous and entirely at rest. Below and to the left, small in the frame, the temple at Kedarnath. The stone shikhara, the steps,…

The hand is raised, palm outward, fingers open. Abhaya mudra — the gesture that means do not be afraid. It is the only moment in this series where Shiva addresses the person looking at the drawing. In every other work he is walking, drumming, counting, sitting, or turned away entirely. Here the eyes are lowered and the head inclined, but the hand is offered forward, and the drawing becomes a transaction rather than an observation. The trishul is held upright in the left hand, its three blades curving outward, the…

The Buddha sits cross-legged, eyes lowered nearly shut, his right hand raised in abhaya mudra — the gesture of fearlessness — while his left rests open in his lap. His curled hair is gathered into the traditional ushnisha at the crown, and his earlobes are drawn long, both marks of the traditional iconography passed down through centuries of Buddhist art. Behind him, a halo of gold and pale green radiates outward in soft concentric rings, the warmest and brightest passage in the painting. Around it, dense trees in near-black green…

A single branch, forked at both ends, is wound tightly in dyed fabric strips and suspended horizontally. From it, hundreds of individual strands fall — twisted, knotted, uneven in length, hanging the way growth does rather than the way anything manufactured does. The colour moves in loose vertical bands rather than a fixed pattern. Deep reds and burnt orange dominate the outer edges, a band of turquoise and cobalt runs through the centre-left, and pale cream and ochre thread through the middle, catching light differently from the saturated colour around…

She sits with eight arms spread around her, each hand held in a different gesture. Not weapons, not offerings — small, everyday movements. A palm raised to soothe. A hand resting flat at her own chest. Fingers open, as if mid-task. Read together, they are not the iconography of a goddess so much as the choreography of a woman doing several things at once, all day, without anyone noticing the number of hands it takes. Her face is left blank. That is the whole argument of the painting. This is…

The painting is built on the tripundra — the three horizontal marks of Shiva, here rendered as broad, hard-edged bands of pale gold outlined in black, sweeping down and curving inward to a point at the base like a shield or a temple gate. Across the centre, four brass temple bells hang from black cords, caught mid-swing. They are the only object painted with real modelling in the whole canvas — warm brown-gold, catching light along their curved shoulders, clappers hanging loose beneath. At the point where the cords cross…

An outrigger canoe cuts across calm water, its bamboo floats skimming the surface on either side. A single sail rises full and taut, striped in red, blue, yellow and green, catching the last colour of the day. Two figures stand at the stern working the boat home. The sky carries the weight of the painting. Deep blue-grey cloud is built up in dense, saturated washes, layered wet-on-wet so the colour pools and separates at the edges, giving the cloud real volume rather than a flat tint. Below it, a band…

A small fishing boat sits alone on flat water, moored fore and aft, its mast bare and its lines slack. There is no wind here, no other vessel, and nothing happening beyond the fact of the boat being tied and waiting. The hull carries most of the colour in the painting — bands of ultramarine and cobalt along the sides, warm ochre at the gunwale, a run of small dark portholes along the length, and a red keel line just visible at the waterline. A round nameplate sits amidships, weathered…

A wooden schooner cuts across the canvas under a full spread of sail — six of them, no two the same colour. Deep red at the two highest points, warm gold through the mainsails, and a bright run of orange and green at the stern where the smaller jibs catch the wind. A yellow pennant flies from the topmost mast. The hull sits low and confident in the water, rust-red and gold, with a handful of tiny figures on deck giving the whole vessel its scale. The sea is painted…

He looks straight out of the paper, unsmiling, with the vertical white tilak of a Vaishnavite mark running from the bridge of his nose into a wrapped white turban. Above it, a tall red cap rises out of the cloth in bands of terracotta, catching light along its ridges. The beard is the most worked passage in the painting — long, full and rendered in fine individual strokes over a soft grey-white wash, each hair drawn rather than blocked in. It falls the length of his chest and covers most…

Three women share a room built from warm washes of ochre and grey, a framed mirror and an old gramophone placed to one side. On the left, a woman stands with arms folded and head tilted, in a mustard blouse embroidered in gold and a flowing pink skirt that pools on the floor. At the centre, seated, a bride in ivory and rust, veil drawn forward, one hand raised thoughtfully to her chin, jewellery picked out in white at her wrists and hairline. On the right, a third woman sits…

Three women share a courtyard built from washes of sepia and ochre, with stone columns, a carved doorway and a marble bust receding into the haze behind them. At the centre, one leans back with an arm raised behind her head, eyes closed, her white blouse loose at the waist above a rust-coloured skirt. At the bottom left, a second reclines full length across a patterned shawl, one hand resting flat against it, a rose wrap crossing her shoulder. At the right, the tallest figure stands with her elbow lifted…

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She fills the lower half of the sheet, emerging from near-total darkness, with a large woven basket balanced on her head. The basket is the brightest thing in the drawing. Its ribbed coils are lit hard from the front, each round of weaving picked out in white against the shadow inside the rim, and it sits weightlessly above her — no hands raised, no visible effort. Her face is handled with the most restraint. The brow is furrowed, the eyes steady and slightly narrowed, the expression neither warm nor hostile.…

She looks directly at you. Not past you, not down — straight out of the paper, and the whole drawing is built around it. The eyes are the most finely worked passage: whites just bright enough against the surrounding tone, the irises dark with a single catchlight in each. Below them the face is modelled in soft graded charcoal across the cheekbones, the bridge of the nose and the full lower lip, with the jaw dissolving into shadow at the edges. Her hair is cut in a heavy fringe and…

Seven Running Horses – Freedom in Motion is a dynamic original artwork featuring seven majestic horses moving together through a lush green meadow. The composition combines warm earthy tones of the horses with refreshing blues and greens of the mountains and open sky, creating a sense of energy, depth, and natural beauty. The central white horse creates a strong focal point, while the surrounding horses add rhythm and movement to the composition. The expressive brushwork and vibrant landscape give the painting a lively, contemporary character while retaining the timeless symbolism…

Two figures fill the canvas, reduced almost to mass. On the left, a seated figure in near-black, head lowered, shoulders rounded, one hand resting forward on a raised knee. Only the face is modelled — a brow, closed eyes, the line of a nose and mouth caught in faint grey. Everything else is silhouette. On the right, larger and closer to us, a second figure seen from behind. The head is bare and turned slightly, the back broad and lit down one side in sweeping strokes of white and pale…

Two heads in profile, one at each edge of the canvas, facing each other across an empty middle. Both are painted almost entirely in black, the features carved out by white highlights rather than drawn — a brow, the bridge of a nose, a lip, the line of a jaw. The hair is rendered in broad white strokes sweeping back from the forehead. Neither face has eyes; there is no contact, only orientation. Between them, slate blue. Flat, unbroken, and occupying the middle third of the painting. Nothing happens there,…

Water falls diagonally across the canvas, breaking pale blue and white where it meets rock. Dark masses of olive, brown and near-black push up through it — boulders, or banks, or the shadowed sides of a gorge. The paint is applied thickly and worked while wet. Ridges of impasto catch light along the top edges, and in places the brush has dragged colour off rather than laying it on, leaving the weave of the canvas showing through. The whites are scraped in rather than painted, which is what makes the…

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Two circles, each cut from a field of worked colour and mounted behind a square white window. The palette is the same in both and the handling is the same: teal and deep blue laid down first, then magenta and crimson driven into it, then gold dragged across the top with a dry brush so it catches the weave of the canvas and skips rather than covers. Nothing is blended. Every colour keeps its own identity, and where they meet they sit against each other rather than mixing. The left…

Two horses running side by side, drawn nearly life-scale across a panoramic sheet. The near horse leads with its head lowered and forelegs gathered mid-stride. The second runs shoulder to shoulder behind it, head up and slightly turned. Both are pale, modelled in soft graded charcoal that catches light along the neck, the flank and the haunch and falls away into shadow underneath. The manes and tails are the darkest passages in the drawing — long sweeping strokes pulled out into the air behind them, and the clearest signal of…

A woman sits on the edge of a claw-foot bath, feeding her child. Her head is tipped back and her eyes are closed. The baby holds on to her, one hand at her chest, legs bare and dangling. Around them, the room as it actually is. Louvred shutters closed against the morning light, a wall panel with a carved bracket, a tap and its pipework, a plain floor. Nothing arranged, nothing decorative. Most of the lower half of the sheet is given over to cloth. A white sheet falls from…

A man stands in a doorway holding a baby. Nothing else happens in the drawing. He is bare from the waist up, in jeans, leaning slightly against the frame. The child lies across both forearms, asleep, one small hand resting near his wrist, legs folded up against his chest. His head is bent, looking down at it. He is not posing for anyone — he is simply looking at the thing he is holding. The strength of the drawing is the contrast of scale and substance. The father is drawn…

Three small panels, each one a variation on a single idea: a disc of gold suspended over dark ground. In the first, two golden orbs hang close together above a landscape of deep maroon and indigo, with a band of gold catching light along the lower edge. In the second, a single sun fills the centre, its surface built from heavy encrusted gold leaf and rays dragged outward into the umber field around it. In the third, one orb sits low on the left over a horizon of red and…

The canvas is split vertically, yellow on the left, deep blue on the right, with nothing to soften the join. Across it, the elements of music reduced to flat shape. Three dark vertical lines and a black disc on the yellow side — strings, and a sound hole, or a record. A cluster of orange quavers floating above. A white and olive triangle cutting across the divide. On the blue side, three golden crescents in a row under two yellow strokes, and a single yellow note outlined in black. At…

A single wooden hull fills most of the canvas, tilted hard to the right, its prow rising against the sky. It is beached, or it is leaning into a wave — the painting does not say which, and that ambiguity is the whole picture. The hull is painted in deep reds and browns, the planking following the curve of the bow, with black gunwales and a row of dark ports running the length of it like stitching. The paint is laid on with visible direction, so the surface reads as…

Two gold-ringed circles sit at the centre, each holding one half of the world as a cartographer would once have drawn it — coastlines in fine ink, continents floating on parchment, faint concentric rings spreading behind them like ripples. Below, a galleon under full sail. The pennant streams from the mainmast, the hull sits low in the water, and a compass rose is marked beside it with north, south, east and west. Around both, the ghost of a coastline drawn in outline across the burnt orange ground. The whole composition…

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A broad tongue of ochre and burnt sienna sweeps in from the right and narrows to a point at the left, with deep blue on both sides of it. Read it as a coastline seen from far above, or as nothing at all — the painting works either way. The blue is laid on in long curving strokes that follow the shape of the land, so the water appears to be moving around it. Where the two meet, the brush has dragged white and pale cream into the edge: surf,…

The canvas is divided down the middle by a single decision: everything on the left is fire, everything on the right is green. On the left, a river holding the first light of the day. The water is worked in short thick strokes of orange, amber and pale gold, so the reflection breaks up the way real water does at dawn, before any wind has reached it. A low sun is just clearing the horizon beside a small hut and a single dark tree. In the foreground, a long wooden…

A broad gold ring on a midnight ground. Inside it, a field of deep crimson. Inside that, a blue square. And then the descent begins. A broad ring of gold on a deep blue ground. Within it, a crimson square set square to the frame, and across that square two gold diagonals running corner to corner, dividing it into four triangles meeting at a single centre. Across the red field, dozens of small gold points. They are not placed on a grid. They gather more densely toward the centre and…

A broad gold ring on a midnight ground. Inside it, a field of deep crimson. Inside that, a blue square. And then the descent begins. A green diamond turns forty-five degrees within the blue square. A red square sits within the green diamond. An orange diamond within the red square. A yellow square within the orange. A dark diamond within the yellow. And at the very centre, a single point of gold, smaller than a fingertip. Each form is rotated against the one containing it, so the eye cannot rest…

A square sits inside a circle, painted flat against a ground that moves from teal to midnight blue. The circle is a single broad ring of gold, laid on thickly enough that the brush marks stay visible. Inside it, a deep crimson square, and across the square four crossed lines in gold flanked by pairs of small dots — a repeating rhythm read from top to bottom. Four points of gold sit outside the square on the blue ground, marking the cardinal directions. The composition is built on the oldest…

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The drawing shows a throat, a raised chin, and the serpent coiled around them. Above the jaw, nothing — the face is left outside the frame entirely. The snake enters from the right, its body wrapping the neck, and rises on the left with the hood spread and the head turned back toward the viewer. The scales are drawn individually across the whole length of the body, curving with the form so the coil reads as round rather than flat. On the hood the pattern shifts: fine banding down the…

The drawing shows a hand at rest, turning a rudraksha mala one bead at a time. The thumb and forefinger hold the strand where it is being counted. A second bead falls away below with its tassel, and a longer strand loops down out of the frame. Two more malas circle the throat above. Every bead is drawn individually — the ridged, furrowed surface of rudraksha rendered bead by bead, dozens of them, none repeated exactly. That is where the hours in this drawing went, and it is what makes…

The drawing shows a single hand holding the damru, and nothing above the wrist. Fingers curl around the waist of the drum where the two cones meet. A rudraksha strand circles the forearm. The cords that tension the drumheads are drawn one by one, crossing the body of the damru in a lattice, and the striker beads hang loose beside it with the tasselled cord falling away below. Around the hand, jata. Locks of matted hair fall from the top of the frame and sweep across to the right, drawn…

The drawing shows only the feet of Lord Shiva, walking down from the snows of Kailash. One foot is planted, weight settled, toes spread into the snow. The other is lifted and still travelling, heel raised, about to come down. Above the ankles the legs leave the frame, so the Lord himself is never shown. That restraint is deliberate, and it follows an old instinct in Indian devotional art. Charan — the feet — have always been enough. Devotees have bowed to charan paduka and charan kamal for centuries precisely…

The canvas is divided into three horizontal bands, like ground cut open and read from the side. The upper third is pale — bone and off-white, laid on thick and left rough. Across the middle runs a raised seam of jute and torn hessian, ochre and dark brown, pushed forward off the surface so it casts its own shadow under a raking light. Below it sits a patch of coarse mesh soaked in rust colour and a fragment of gold leaf. The lower third is a solid mass of deep…