A Devata Crowned in Light and Silence
She lifts a blossom to the light she already holds. This lyrical reflection invites the reader through flame, stillness, and the sacred practice of hand-shaped memory. A portrait not taken—but received.
A Temple’s Final Breath of Day
In the moment before shadow disappears, she stands without weight—lifted by memory alone. This brief meditation enters the gate as light departs, and finds the devata not carved, but breathed.
Where Flame Becomes Stillness
The devata does not shine. She gathers. Her lifted hand receives the gold of evening without moving. In this poetic field note and verse, fire becomes memory, and the image becomes vow.
Beneath the Flame That Did Not Burn
Evening gathers at the gate. She does not catch the light—she releases it. Beneath her flame-shaped crown, stillness rises. The shutter waits. A photograph begins where silence lingers longest.
