A passionate group of people dedicated to preserving India's knowledge of Dharma, Karma, and Bhakti for ourselves and the world đ.
In the heart of the lush green forests of West Bengal, in a region fondly called 'Jangalmahal', stands a magnificent structure that seems to have captured time within its walls. The Jhargram Raj Bari is not just a palace; it's a living storybook. Every corridor whispers
Have you ever stood on a misty hilltop in Assam and felt the ancient stories whispering through the trees? That's the feeling the Karbi language evokes. It's more than just a way to speak; it's the very heartbeat of the Karbi people, a beautiful
There are some voices that donât just sing; they tell the story of a land, its people, and its soul. For Assam, that voice belongs to Dr. Bhupen Hazarika. Itâs a voice that feels like the mighty Brahmaputra river itselfâvast, deep, and carrying the emotions of an
Imagine standing on a Himalayan hilltop, the crisp mountain air filling your lungs, and your eyes gazing upon the magnificent snow-capped peaks of Kanchenjunga. In this moment of pure stillness, you hear the faint, rhythmic chanting of monks and the gentle flutter of prayer flags. This isn't a
There are places you visit, and then there are places that you feel. Places where the walls whisper tales of a bygone era, and the air itself seems thick with history. My recent visit to the Jhargram Raj Palace felt exactly like thatânot just a weekend getaway, but a
There's a certain fragrance that takes many of us back to our childhood homes â the gentle, earthy scent of Tulsi leaves mingling with the morning air. I remember my grandmother, every single day without fail, lighting a small diya near the Tulsi plant in our courtyard. It wasn&
Some places in our country just feel different, don't they? The moment you step into them, the air seems to hum with a quiet energy, a mix of history, faith, and stories whispered through generations. In the heart of Assam, nestled amidst lush greenery, lies a town called
There's a certain magic in the soil of Bengal, a silent poetry that the local artisans, or karigars, have known for centuries. I often think about this when I look at a Bankura horse. Itâs not just a clay figure; it stands with such a proud, graceful
Some places in our country hold stories so ancient, they feel like a dream. Standing on the banks of the Phulki River in Gujarat, near a mound locals call Bibi-no-Timbo, you can almost hear the echoes of a bustling past. This is Kuntasi, not just a ruin, but a powerful
