The Past of the Present is in the Future of the Now

Imagine that every human being is given a bag at birth. We spend our life filling it.  Some things we put into it are beautiful like love, compassion, wisdom, generosity, devotion, selfless service. But we also put other things into it like anger, greed, jealousy, fear, resentment, possessiveness, unfulfilled desires, attachments and the memories and impressions created by all these experiences. And according to the wisdom of the Gita and the Upanishads, death does not necessarily mean that the journey ends. The body is left behind. But the subtle baggage associated with the jiva continues. What exactly travels? The Bhagavad Gita says मनःषष्ठानीन्द्रियाणि प्रकृतिस्थानि कर्षति । 
manaḥ-ṣaṣṭhānīndriyāṇi prakṛtisthāni karṣati
 “The embodied self draws to itself the mind and the five senses.”
— Bhagavad Gita 15.7 Then Krishna gives a striking insight  शरीरं यदवाप्नोति यच्चाप्युत्क्रामतीश्वरः ।
गृहीत्वैतानि संयाति वायुर्गन्धानिवाशयात् ॥ “When the embodied self obtains a...

Sometimes, we set out to photograph the world, only to discover that the real journey was taking place within. There is something beautiful about setting out with a camera. You leave home with a purpose. Perhaps you want to photograph a waterfall, capture the first light on a mountain, discover the hidden details of a flower or bring home the colours of a city you have never seen before. You pack your lenses, check your batteries, clean your filters and step out into the world with the excitement of a new discovery. For me, over the last few months, this has meant moving out on photography trips, photography tours and workshops. My primary aim was photography, of course. To learn, to improve, to understand light, composition, perspective and the extraordinary possibilities hidden in ordinary things. But something else was happening. Something I had not quite understood when I first began travelling. Photography, I now realise, was only th...

            My Painting - Janamashtami 2026 Every year, on Janmashtami, millions celebrate the birth of  Krishna. There are songs, temples, midnight prayers, decorated cradles, butter, flowers, lamps and the familiar image of a beautiful blue child with a flute. We know Krishna as the mischievous child of Gokul, the lover of Radha, the friend of Arjuna and the teacher of the Bhagavad Gita. But what if Krishna is not merely seen as a person who was  born in history? What if the symbolism of Krishna’s name itself points towards something far more fundamental about existence? The Sanskrit word Krishna is traditionally associated with  darkness, blackness or that which is dark in colour. The word Shyam or Shyama also evokes a dark, deep, blue- black appearance. At first, this seems strange. Why would the divine be represented as dark? Our minds have been conditioned to associate light with goodness and darkness with ignorance. Ligh...