A photo series on the synthetic harmony extricated from natural canopies.


The wind,
flitting through convolutions in my hair,
polished the sickly heat off its monstrous snare,

gently,                                   wildly,


offering me the douceur of virginal shade,
thrust me towards the austere empire,
of the finest imperial throng,
and the most gargantuan assembly,
of rooted umbrellas and swaying spirits,
under interleaved passages of beatific light,
donning threadbare garbs of impenetrable make,
awaiting a soul lost, like mine,
to envisage the enunciation,
of ancestral syncretism,
sequesting honest lies,
from abjured truths,
saving the outcast,
noblesse oblige.

Aravind Deepak
The Unconditional Maverick

About Aravind Deepak

Diligent dreamer. E-mail:

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