On a narrow Bazaar street… in a far far valley, inhabited by a pocket full
While the whole world is going nuts creating and apparently solving complexities, there still are
Along the Dab sitting across on a warm and comforting silk carpet, an old man
Gazing into infinity… into the dark sky Twinkle one…two…three… Twinkle four…five… six…! Blink one…two…three… Blink
A house, she wanted to build, with every twig and stone the earth embraced, bonding
He sits cross-legged in the lap of hills. He has a knowing, settled air to
At 5:30 am in the morning, 15100 feet above the sea level he’s rushed, separating
He loved her. She right back at him. They lived in the hills amidst vast
The forest was denser… life expressing itself unhindered had covered the abandoned rock cut caves.
They call themselves the ‘triumphant (through) water buffalo’. They are the Minangkabaus. The tribe inhabits
Man, an eternal traveler has traversed landscapes… on foot, on his rides, on flights in
Ponk ponk, goes off the Goan morning alarm. It’s 6 AM and the Poder appears
Gaatha brings to you, traditional handicrafts and the culture behind them, directly from the very home of the Indian artisan.