Complimentary worldwide shipping on orders over $400 · No import tariffs for most countries
Complimentary worldwide shipping on orders over $400 · No import tariffs for most countries

2 min read
Among the heroes of the Mahabharata, Arjuna stands closest to the human centre.
He is not the strongest, nor the most ferocious. He is not the most ruthless, nor the most assured. What distinguishes him is hesitation—the capacity to pause, to doubt, and to listen when certainty fractures. In this, Arjuna becomes more than a warrior. He becomes a mirror.
Born to Queen Kunti through the divine agency of Indra, Arjuna inherits celestial skill, but not celestial detachment. His life unfolds as a long education in the limits of power. Each weapon he acquires demands not only strength, but restraint; each victory reveals a deeper obligation.
From the beginning, his excellence is unmistakable. He wins Draupadi through an archery feat no other prince can accomplish, striking a hidden target while disguised as a mendicant. He becomes Agni’s chosen instrument in the burning of the Khandava forest, holding back Indra’s rain with a lattice of arrows so dense it seals the sky. He stands firm even against the gods, yet never claims supremacy over them.
His greatest trial, however, is not martial.
It is inward.
Seeking the weapons necessary to confront his cousins, Arjuna withdraws into austerity, subjecting his body to discipline until even the gods take notice. When Shiva approaches him disguised as a mountain hunter, Arjuna does not recognise divinity. He recognises challenge. Their duel is fierce, intimate, stripped of pageantry. Only when Arjuna’s pride breaks—when he bows rather than strikes—does the god reveal himself.
Power is granted not to the victorious, but to the yielded.
This lesson follows Arjuna to the field of Kurukshetra.
There, facing teachers, elders, cousins, and friends arrayed for slaughter, his will collapses. The bow slips from his hand. His strength deserts him. He is paralysed by pity, by dread, by the realisation that righteousness, when enacted, carries unbearable cost.
This is the moment that defines him.
As his charioteer, Krishna does not command him to fight. He teaches him to see. The Bhagavad Gita unfolds not as doctrine, but as orientation: act without attachment, fight without hatred, surrender outcome while committing fully to duty. Arjuna is not asked to become divine. He is asked to become aligned.
When he lifts his bow again, it is not with certainty, but with clarity.
In Khmer temples, this tension is carved with deliberate care. At Angkor Wat, Arjuna rides into battle with Krishna as charioteer—armed hero guided by unarmed wisdom. At Banteay Srei, his arrows hold back the rain itself, not as defiance of the gods, but as obedience to a higher necessity. In the Arjunakirata scenes at the Bayon and the Baphuon, kings see their own reflection: authority tested, pride humbled, mandate confirmed only through submission.
Arjuna’s enduring power lies here.
He shows that strength without guidance is violence, and guidance without courage is impotence. The chariot moves only when both are present. The bow strikes true only when the hand is steady and the heart has consented.
Arjuna does not conquer doubt.
He passes through it.
And in doing so, he becomes the figure through whom divine intention enters the human world—not as thunder, but as decision.

1 min read
This poem listens to Angkor not as ruin, but as grammar—where moss, shadow, and proportion carry devotion forward without spectacle. What endures here is not glory, but measure: a way of standing that no longer needs witnesses.

3 min read
At harvest, the danger is not hunger but forgetting how to listen.
This folklore retelling speaks of drums struck for silence, of grain taken without gratitude, and of a narrow figure who does not punish—only waits. A tale of pacts made not with spirits, but with attention itself.

2 min read
A lost city sleeps in the jungle, its thresholds carved with serpents — not ornament, but law. This vow-poem enters love as sacred hunger: desire as guardianship, devotion as possession, the body speaking without language. A liturgy of heat, roots, rain, and the terrible tenderness of being claimed.
Receive occasional letters from my studio in Siem Reap—offering a glimpse into my creative process, early access to new fine art prints, field notes from the temples of Angkor, exhibition announcements, and reflections on beauty, impermanence, and the spirit of place.
No noise. No clutter. Just quiet inspiration, delivered gently.
Subscribe and stay connected to the unfolding story.
Receive occasional letters from my studio in Siem Reap—offering a glimpse into my creative process, early access to new fine art prints, field notes from the temples of Angkor, exhibition announcements, and reflections on beauty, impermanence, and the spirit of place.
No noise. No clutter. Just quiet inspiration, delivered gently.
Subscribe and stay connected to the unfolding story.