Somewhere in the heart of Karnataka, draped superbly in electric hues of red, green, and gold, a silver-haired queen of saris surveys her kingdom from her bright green palace. The palms of the south wave gently in deference, as the sun paints her ensemble a fiercer orange. The sky is no match for those eight yards of piercing blue, broken only by delicate gold filigree. Her pallu dances with the wind, while her hair strangely stays still. You can’t see her face, but she reels you in all the more because of it.
The lady in the picture is not famous. But she is the world to her son, a constable-turned-self-taught-lensman who is currently disrupting the art scene around the world
