Sulh - i - Khayal

Some freedoms arrive centuries late, and still ask permission to stay.

What is a mother's life, her love to you?

Mothers and their love: Wrapped up in masale, dipped in mustard oil - a certain taste of memory, once tasted, you can never forget.

Four of us, but not together.

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Same sky, many colours. Just like people!

Make space for please.

A secured look of the downfall from a privileged point of view. Do you see?

Spot the imposter.

So what happens to those who are chained and not looked after? They rust to death.

The new and cared for, they survive.

Ruins of a holy abode, cuz the lord's lost their passports.