Ganga Ghat 4

Suspended in a furnace-like red sky, the city’s spires rise as silhouettes—half architecture, half memory—while the water below mirrors them in trembling, fractured bands. A warm ochre horizon opens a corridor of light that both soothes and unsettles, as if dawn and aftermath occupy the same breath. The scattered notes of blue and ember along the shoreline read like human presence reduced to glints—small acts of life resisting the vast, planar quiet of the scene. In this tension between reflection and dissolution, the work becomes a meditation on impermanence: a metropolis not depicted, but recalled through heat, haze, and lingering reverberation.