Where sky meets sea, where silence wears blue. Pondicherry is dusk and depth, strength and softness in equal parts. A print that feels like a breath held, and then let go.

Three names, one spirit. Leela is a whisper in bloom. Zanana is geometry with a heartbeat. Sand Dollar is symmetry washed ashore. Together, they dance in bark and burst, earth and colour, rhythm and pause.

Colours drawn from memory,
a plate passed down,
clay still soft in your palm,
the sky just before it forgets the sun.
Malabar moves slowly, like something sacred.

This one feels like walking barefoot
on warm earth after rain,
holding fruit so ripe it stains your hand.
Maika is rooted,
and somehow always returning.

If light could hum, it would look like this.
Soft yellow slipping into sky blue,
like music only the heart hears.
Shahnai is a mood,
not a moment.

Some prints feel like silence.
Like dusk pressed between pages,
like old songs with no name.
These are made for slow days,
and even slower remembering.

There’s grace in being grounded,
and beauty in not needing to bloom.
Nayab holds warmth the way old hands do
with strength, and without question.