HOW DOES ANYONE EXPECT ME TO STAY STRAIGHT AFTER THIS?

The Elegance of Indian Art

These paintings, according to me, justify the beauty and the mystical feeling of nostalgia and euphoria when one hears the word "India"...

Jamuna ~Kshitindranath Tagore art

Sati ~Nandalal Bose

Bengal Fairy Tales ~Abanindranath Tagore

Chashma Shahi ~Abanindranath Tagore

Apsaras Dancing on the clouds ~Kshitindranath Mazumdar

Departure of Siddhartha ~Abanindranath Tagore

Nasim Bagh ~Abanindranath Tagore

Night at the Shalimar-The Emperor Shah Jahan ~(Abanindranath Tagore)

Fate and Pleasure ~Abanindranath Tagore

Ashoka ~Abanindranath Tagore

(Reblogs are appreciated)

//What happens when fire makes love to the earth?//

saanjh ab bhayi nahi aaye / tum bin mora jiya ghabaraye.

HONORARY MENTIONS

THE

..REASON...

...WHY...

..I..

..SHALL..

...FOREVER..

...REMAIN...

...SINGLE.

Officially found the most beautiful place on earth.

Candi Ceto, a ancient hindu temple at Java

Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude

it's a race against the clock, but we don't wanna watch

The definition of happiness.

monsoon moodboard for the rainy days

"and the earth itself.... its loveliest fragrance is known only when it receives a shower of rain. and the scent of wet earth rises as though it were giving something beautiful back to the clouds." // ruskin bond, rain in the mountains

My ancestors - Omprakash Valmiki

You said Service is the duty of the Shudra They did not ask What will you give for it? You were happy You now had slaves They were happy too Happy for you They had put all their power In your hands. The body unclothed The stomach unfed Hurt, and yet They smiled For they saw you smiled. They did not know How to loot The weak and the innocent! Did not know That murder Is the badge of courage That robbery is not a crime It is but culture. How innocent they were My ancestors Humane Yet untouchable.

Henrik Ibsen's Puphejmo-A Doll's House

Man Kyun Behka Re Behka Aadhi Raat Ko

She lay on the bed with the man dancing away to the rhythms of his own pleasure. Yes, he was just a man....She couldn't remember his name. It didn't even matter. She didn't care anymore. Her mind had danced away into the humble room filled with the scent of the jasmines adorning her hair. Is this how Krishna's flute sounded to Radha?....The way her quiet giggles sound to her?......The way she has stolen her sleep just like Krishna stole Radha's heart. The entire day seemed like a dream. But the night was ethereal. Their hearts spoke after years. She felt like she was not alone after so long. Their joy was drunk in moonlight and their laughter heralded the moonrise.

Why did her heart feel so restless that midnight?

She wanted to keep hearing the sounds of her anklets. For one night that music was only for her. She had said that her anklets were singing differently that night. They had laughed and then she had looked at her...Into her eyes, her soul...Not just her body. She had smiled and looked away. Is that the shyness her mother used to tell her about? The one which was supposed to come swooping down like a veil whenever her husband looked at her but never did? Why did the sindoor feel so different when she put it on her forehead? It hadn't felt like that in the ten years of her marriage. They had talked that night....Talked of life, of sorrows that had so long been confined within the four walls of their hearts. Nights had always been quiet....But that night rang with the words that had been buried under the shadows of loneliness.

Why did her heart feel so restless that midnight?