Of all the arts, I find sculpture and classical dance the two most difficult media — for the simple reason that both are body dependent.

Just when one was beginning to think that with the exit of Ashok Vajpayee from the helm of affairs of the Lalit Kala Akademi, all would be well; it seems the saga of wrongdoings continues.

Last week, I was at a charming restaurant in the suburbs, which has been designed and landscaped to take one closer to the elements.

Last week, something very important happened that is very close to my heart.

There is something very endearingly straightforward about classical arts — be it performing or visual arts.

The written text has always had sacred connotations for me — the never-ending debate between shabd or word and bimb that is image notwithstanding!

The word landscape conjures up images of verdant spaces in the lap of nature.

Storytelling is part of our cultural DNA.

The orange sun turns a deep hue of red, streaking across the motley clouds, as they blot the light into their being, turning them into liquid gold.

I think I got touched in the head with the surfeit of art all around. In addition to the cultural kumbh, as someone called the India Art Fair, are collateral events that are making me want to scream.