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Your Guide to Movie Magic

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For the first time, I felt like making a sketch before a film's release just because I felt the trailer and the music had a lot of heart in it. Looking forward to watching Sri Chidambaram in theatre on 6th February..

For the first time, I felt like making a sketch before a film's release just because I felt the trailer and the music had a lot of heart in it. Looking forward to watching Sri Chidambaram in theatre on 6th February..

- Anubhavita -

I’ll be honest, I almost didn’t go.

When I was in Kashi recently, the sheer size of the crowds actually had me feeling pretty hesitant. Even standing right outside the temple gates just before the Shayana Aarti, we were having second thoughts. We almost turned around and left because we thought it might just be too much to handle.

But something pushed us to go inside anyway, and I’m so glad we did.

We ended up in a line wrapped around the main mandir. From where we stood, the main lingam wasn't even visible and all I could see were the temple doors. But then the aarti started, and the vibe completely shifted.

The entire crowd started singing out loud with so much soul. It wasn't just a ritual. It felt like they were singing to an actual person sitting inside the mandir, listening to every word. That energy was so powerful that I had this vivid vision of Shiva himself sitting right there behind those doors, just taking it all in.

This artwork is my attempt at capturing that exact moment: the smoke, the bells, and the feeling that He was right there with us. I went in afraid of the crowd, but I left feeling like I’d just witnessed something private and beautiful.
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#kashi #kashivishwanath #kashivishwanathtemple #shiva #lordshiva

- Anubhavita -

I’ll be honest, I almost didn’t go.

When I was in Kashi recently, the sheer size of the crowds actually had me feeling pretty hesitant. Even standing right outside the temple gates just before the Shayana Aarti, we were having second thoughts. We almost turned around and left because we thought it might just be too much to handle.

But something pushed us to go inside anyway, and I’m so glad we did.

We ended up in a line wrapped around the main mandir. From where we stood, the main lingam wasn't even visible and all I could see were the temple doors. But then the aarti started, and the vibe completely shifted.

The entire crowd started singing out loud with so much soul. It wasn't just a ritual. It felt like they were singing to an actual person sitting inside the mandir, listening to every word. That energy was so powerful that I had this vivid vision of Shiva himself sitting right there behind those doors, just taking it all in.

This artwork is my attempt at capturing that exact moment: the smoke, the bells, and the feeling that He was right there with us. I went in afraid of the crowd, but I left feeling like I’d just witnessed something private and beautiful.
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#kashi #kashivishwanath #kashivishwanathtemple #shiva #lordshiva

Muggu pani thanadi, mosquitos pani naadi.
Happy Bhogi!!
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#bhogi #sankranti #pongal #muggu #rangoli

Muggu pani thanadi, mosquitos pani naadi.
Happy Bhogi!!
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#bhogi #sankranti #pongal #muggu #rangoli

Description avasaram leni sketch idi. Introduction avasaram leni manishidi..

M - E - G - A 🌟!!
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#chiranjeevi #anilravipudi #megastarchiranjeevi #tollywood #cinema

Description avasaram leni sketch idi. Introduction avasaram leni manishidi..

M - E - G - A 🌟!!
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#chiranjeevi #anilravipudi #megastarchiranjeevi #tollywood #cinema

Psych Siddhartha is a teaser film for the "style" of filmmaking to expect when the craft is handed over to next gen filmmakers. If not all of it, a great percentage of the making style will be seen replicated in some upcoming films that may fine tune it to perfection and become blockbusters. That's when I'll remember it started here.

They were very clear about their audience from the promotions and I felt it would very well work for that particular set. The expectations set with the promotions is what the film also follows with a surprisingly soulful second half.

Here's where I felt the makers could've made some better choices because I see a lot of heart in the second half. I wished they avoided a tiny percentage of dialogue and scenery* in the first half and somehow dodged the "A" certificate, because I personally felt the film also has a great view time for audiences from all ages and backgrounds. But again, that's me.

The film entertains equally well without those elements, especially the way @that_actor_nandu owned up the character and the way the dialogues kept hitting you like fun-filled bullets in the first half. If only some more of them were also borrowed to the second half, it might have been a perfect entertainer for me.

Special mention to @yamini_bhaskar for both landing a role that has so much character and also performing it with all she has. A particular scene almost had me in tears. Looking forward to more from her.

The background score and songs blend in perfectly. I had my paisa worth of entertainment and probably you will too. Try to take your time the first few minutes to get used to the way the story is told and it might then start growing on you and does what it was aimed to.

Psych Siddhartha is a teaser film for the "style" of filmmaking to expect when the craft is handed over to next gen filmmakers. If not all of it, a great percentage of the making style will be seen replicated in some upcoming films that may fine tune it to perfection and become blockbusters. That's when I'll remember it started here.

They were very clear about their audience from the promotions and I felt it would very well work for that particular set. The expectations set with the promotions is what the film also follows with a surprisingly soulful second half.

Here's where I felt the makers could've made some better choices because I see a lot of heart in the second half. I wished they avoided a tiny percentage of dialogue and scenery* in the first half and somehow dodged the "A" certificate, because I personally felt the film also has a great view time for audiences from all ages and backgrounds. But again, that's me.

The film entertains equally well without those elements, especially the way @that_actor_nandu owned up the character and the way the dialogues kept hitting you like fun-filled bullets in the first half. If only some more of them were also borrowed to the second half, it might have been a perfect entertainer for me.

Special mention to @yamini_bhaskar for both landing a role that has so much character and also performing it with all she has. A particular scene almost had me in tears. Looking forward to more from her.

The background score and songs blend in perfectly. I had my paisa worth of entertainment and probably you will too. Try to take your time the first few minutes to get used to the way the story is told and it might then start growing on you and does what it was aimed to.

**Saannidhyam**
--
We’re used to images of the divine looking straight at us. As if prayer needs eye contact. As if devotion must be conscious and declared.

But life isn’t always lived facing forward.
Some days we walk with uncertainty, with silence, with questions we can’t speak aloud.
Some days even prayer feels heavy.

This artwork is for those days.

He, for me, isn’t someone I always speak to. He’s the quiet presence behind me. He feels like that elder at home who rests in another room, not asking anything from us. Not seeking formality or effort. Just being there.

When we’re leaving the house, we touch their feet. Not out of obligation, but because something in us knows their blessing doesn’t come from their eyes meeting ours. It comes from their existence itself.

There’s a strange strength in that kind of presence. A strength that asks nothing yet gives everything. A strength that reminds us we don’t have to perform devotion. We just have to feel it.

With him lying here, facing away, the space becomes safe.
No gaze to impress.
No expectation to meet.
Only room to breathe, to speak truth, or to say nothing at all.

Sometimes what we need isn’t someone looking at us.
But someone resting close enough to remind us we’re not alone.
Quiet. Trusting. Present.

And that’s the purpose of this picture!!
Not to be stared back at, not to create a moment of formality, not to force expression.
But to simply be there.

For the mornings we step out.
For the moments words fail.
For the days life shifts without warning.
For the times we return seeking strength, clarity, or just a little peace.

A silent reminder that even when we are not seen, we are still held.
--

**Saannidhyam**
--
We’re used to images of the divine looking straight at us. As if prayer needs eye contact. As if devotion must be conscious and declared.

But life isn’t always lived facing forward.
Some days we walk with uncertainty, with silence, with questions we can’t speak aloud.
Some days even prayer feels heavy.

This artwork is for those days.

He, for me, isn’t someone I always speak to. He’s the quiet presence behind me. He feels like that elder at home who rests in another room, not asking anything from us. Not seeking formality or effort. Just being there.

When we’re leaving the house, we touch their feet. Not out of obligation, but because something in us knows their blessing doesn’t come from their eyes meeting ours. It comes from their existence itself.

There’s a strange strength in that kind of presence. A strength that asks nothing yet gives everything. A strength that reminds us we don’t have to perform devotion. We just have to feel it.

With him lying here, facing away, the space becomes safe.
No gaze to impress.
No expectation to meet.
Only room to breathe, to speak truth, or to say nothing at all.

Sometimes what we need isn’t someone looking at us.
But someone resting close enough to remind us we’re not alone.
Quiet. Trusting. Present.

And that’s the purpose of this picture!!
Not to be stared back at, not to create a moment of formality, not to force expression.
But to simply be there.

For the mornings we step out.
For the moments words fail.
For the days life shifts without warning.
For the times we return seeking strength, clarity, or just a little peace.

A silent reminder that even when we are not seen, we are still held.
--

@filmdeva, this story will remain in our minds for a long long time.

@chaitanyaraomadadi, @aadhiofficial - Each of you brought such authenticity to your characters, and together you made it unforgettable..

@filmdeva, this story will remain in our minds for a long long time.

@chaitanyaraomadadi, @aadhiofficial - Each of you brought such authenticity to your characters, and together you made it unforgettable..

“She is Coming.” That line, used in the promotions, captures the essence of this film perfectly. This isn’t just about the arrival of a character, it’s about the arrival of SHE in Indian superhero cinema. A space long dominated by “he” figures at the box office is now met with a worthy she — and Kalyani is exactly the she this movie deserved.

What worked for me most was how her character wasn’t built to dominate at all times. She shines when needed, yet remains grounded and vulnerable, and Kalyani brings that balance out beautifully. Unlike the typical larger-than-life male superheroes, her power didn’t come from overwhelming presence but from knowing when to simply be herself.

The elevation scenes were electric, thanks to Jakes Bejoy’s pulsating background score and some spectacular camera work. Honestly, the film often looked on par with, if not better than, massive-budget spectacles. What impressed me was the smartness in how it was shot — every frame was rich with detail, even in close-ups, rather than relying only on wide landscapes with average quality. That attention to depth kept the film visually compelling throughout.

It’s definitely a movie to watch in theaters. The sound and visual experience deserve the big screen. And above all, it felt refreshing — a genuine start of something new. With Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra, the next big thing for Indian cinema might just have begun.
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@kalyanipriyadarshan @dqswayfarerfilms @dominic_arun @dqsalmaan
#lokah #malayalamcinema #malayalam #superhero #kalyanipriyadarshan #dulquer

“She is Coming.” That line, used in the promotions, captures the essence of this film perfectly. This isn’t just about the arrival of a character, it’s about the arrival of SHE in Indian superhero cinema. A space long dominated by “he” figures at the box office is now met with a worthy she — and Kalyani is exactly the she this movie deserved.

What worked for me most was how her character wasn’t built to dominate at all times. She shines when needed, yet remains grounded and vulnerable, and Kalyani brings that balance out beautifully. Unlike the typical larger-than-life male superheroes, her power didn’t come from overwhelming presence but from knowing when to simply be herself.

The elevation scenes were electric, thanks to Jakes Bejoy’s pulsating background score and some spectacular camera work. Honestly, the film often looked on par with, if not better than, massive-budget spectacles. What impressed me was the smartness in how it was shot — every frame was rich with detail, even in close-ups, rather than relying only on wide landscapes with average quality. That attention to depth kept the film visually compelling throughout.

It’s definitely a movie to watch in theaters. The sound and visual experience deserve the big screen. And above all, it felt refreshing — a genuine start of something new. With Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra, the next big thing for Indian cinema might just have begun.
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@kalyanipriyadarshan @dqswayfarerfilms @dominic_arun @dqsalmaan
#lokah #malayalamcinema #malayalam #superhero #kalyanipriyadarshan #dulquer

Ekātmatā - The longing to become one experience.

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There were so many times when I stood beside you and thought to myself, “Do I really understand what you are feeling right now?”

Like the day you held back your tears with a smile, and everyone else believed it, except I knew it wasn’t real. Or the evening you laughed so loudly at something silly, and I joined in, but somewhere I wondered if your laughter carried a weight that I couldn’t hear. Or those long quiet nights when you turned away, not angry, not upset, just… carrying something I could never quite name.

I did what I thought was right in those moments. I said the words, I reached for your hand, I gave you space, I tried to be enough. And maybe to you it looked like I understood. Maybe it was even comforting, in its own way. But for me… it never felt like enough.

Because deep inside, I always wished I could go beyond guessing, beyond piecing together clues. I wished I could feel what you feel, exactly as you feel it. Every nerve, every breath, every memory stitched into your body.

I imagine sometimes what it would be like if our nerves were strung together — if my body carried your joys and your wounds, if your body carried my fears and my hopes. If the same sparks that move through you also lit me, without distortion, without distance.

And maybe that is why I keep wishing. I keep praying. I keep trying. Because the truth is, every time I think I understand you, I also feel the sharp edge of what I cannot reach.

So I will hold that wish — that one day, when every line within us meets at the center, I can look at you without any doubt and simply say… I understand you.

---

Ekātmatā - The longing to become one experience.

---

There were so many times when I stood beside you and thought to myself, “Do I really understand what you are feeling right now?”

Like the day you held back your tears with a smile, and everyone else believed it, except I knew it wasn’t real. Or the evening you laughed so loudly at something silly, and I joined in, but somewhere I wondered if your laughter carried a weight that I couldn’t hear. Or those long quiet nights when you turned away, not angry, not upset, just… carrying something I could never quite name.

I did what I thought was right in those moments. I said the words, I reached for your hand, I gave you space, I tried to be enough. And maybe to you it looked like I understood. Maybe it was even comforting, in its own way. But for me… it never felt like enough.

Because deep inside, I always wished I could go beyond guessing, beyond piecing together clues. I wished I could feel what you feel, exactly as you feel it. Every nerve, every breath, every memory stitched into your body.

I imagine sometimes what it would be like if our nerves were strung together — if my body carried your joys and your wounds, if your body carried my fears and my hopes. If the same sparks that move through you also lit me, without distortion, without distance.

And maybe that is why I keep wishing. I keep praying. I keep trying. Because the truth is, every time I think I understand you, I also feel the sharp edge of what I cannot reach.

So I will hold that wish — that one day, when every line within us meets at the center, I can look at you without any doubt and simply say… I understand you.

---

"మాటరాని మౌనమిది.."

Just grateful 💜

"మాటరాని మౌనమిది.."

Just grateful 💜

A wedding season weekend to remember..

A wedding season weekend to remember..

Tāraṇa
The one who carries across.

---

She wasn’t a person.
She was a force.
Maybe his wildest emotion—
too fast, too loud, too much.
The kind that floods in without warning,
leaving no time to prepare.

But instead of resisting,
he made room.
Expanded.
Shifted shape—not to survive her,
but to meet her.

And in that quiet collision,
something unusual happened.

She didn’t shrink.
He didn’t break.
They changed—together.

---

She didn’t need to be contained to soften.
Just seen.
What once came roaring—
now moved like a dance.
Not because she lost her power,
but because someone finally stood still long enough
to receive it.

---

We talk so much about control—
calming the noise, fixing the mess, restoring order.
But what if some things aren’t waiting to be fixed?
What if they just want to be seen?

He didn’t silence her.
He witnessed her.

And in that quiet witnessing,
they both changed.

And maybe, in witnessing her,
he didn’t just survive her—

He carried her across.
From rage to rhythm.
From flood to flow.

---

This isn’t a story about control.
It’s about capacity.
About what it takes to hold something as wild as emotion,
as ancient as grief,
or as loud as truth—
without folding under it.

She didn’t need a battle.
She needed a witness.
And sometimes, that’s all an emotion is asking for—
to be seen… and not turned away.

What if the emotion you’re trying to fight… just wants to be felt??

Tāraṇa
The one who carries across.

---

She wasn’t a person.
She was a force.
Maybe his wildest emotion—
too fast, too loud, too much.
The kind that floods in without warning,
leaving no time to prepare.

But instead of resisting,
he made room.
Expanded.
Shifted shape—not to survive her,
but to meet her.

And in that quiet collision,
something unusual happened.

She didn’t shrink.
He didn’t break.
They changed—together.

---

She didn’t need to be contained to soften.
Just seen.
What once came roaring—
now moved like a dance.
Not because she lost her power,
but because someone finally stood still long enough
to receive it.

---

We talk so much about control—
calming the noise, fixing the mess, restoring order.
But what if some things aren’t waiting to be fixed?
What if they just want to be seen?

He didn’t silence her.
He witnessed her.

And in that quiet witnessing,
they both changed.

And maybe, in witnessing her,
he didn’t just survive her—

He carried her across.
From rage to rhythm.
From flood to flow.

---

This isn’t a story about control.
It’s about capacity.
About what it takes to hold something as wild as emotion,
as ancient as grief,
or as loud as truth—
without folding under it.

She didn’t need a battle.
She needed a witness.
And sometimes, that’s all an emotion is asking for—
to be seen… and not turned away.

What if the emotion you’re trying to fight… just wants to be felt??

Vibodha – The Flame That Teaches Itself

She is not called.
She is remembered— in the exact moment when something within you finally clicks.
Not through study, not through instruction— but through recognition.

She does not answer your questions.
She burns them.

Her flame lives inside every seeker,
quiet and unnoticed, until it’s struck by a moment of clarity too deep to explain.

She gives no lectures.She writes no texts.
She leaves behind no scrolls or speeches.

Vibodha does not teach. She ignites.

And yet, she favours the quiet seeker—
the one who isn’t chasing knowledge to win,
but to understand. The one who is willing to put the self aside and let wonder take the lead.

To such a soul, she draws near.
Gently. Silently. Completely.

Each note from her veena isn’t music— it’s a syllable, a symbol, a word that was waiting to rise in you all along.

From her open palm, a single letter floats upward—
not just as a fire, but as knowing in its rawest form.

You do not study under her. You sit in her presence
and find that you’ve begun to understand.

She is not a goddess of instruction.
She is the flame of realisation.
Unpredictable. Untamed. Undeniable.

She is the inner spark you didn’t know you carried until it finally caught fire.

She is Vibodha!

Vibodha – The Flame That Teaches Itself

She is not called.
She is remembered— in the exact moment when something within you finally clicks.
Not through study, not through instruction— but through recognition.

She does not answer your questions.
She burns them.

Her flame lives inside every seeker,
quiet and unnoticed, until it’s struck by a moment of clarity too deep to explain.

She gives no lectures.She writes no texts.
She leaves behind no scrolls or speeches.

Vibodha does not teach. She ignites.

And yet, she favours the quiet seeker—
the one who isn’t chasing knowledge to win,
but to understand. The one who is willing to put the self aside and let wonder take the lead.

To such a soul, she draws near.
Gently. Silently. Completely.

Each note from her veena isn’t music— it’s a syllable, a symbol, a word that was waiting to rise in you all along.

From her open palm, a single letter floats upward—
not just as a fire, but as knowing in its rawest form.

You do not study under her. You sit in her presence
and find that you’ve begun to understand.

She is not a goddess of instruction.
She is the flame of realisation.
Unpredictable. Untamed. Undeniable.

She is the inner spark you didn’t know you carried until it finally caught fire.

She is Vibodha!

Sahishnu
(The strength to stay still)

---
There is a kind of strength the world doesn’t understand.
It doesn’t roar. It doesn’t demand.
It simply holds — gently, like a bird in the palm.
This is your peace.

It doesn’t need to be loud.
It just needs to be protected.

The chaos around you will call it softness.
The noise will mistake it for weakness.
But those who’ve lived through storms know —
Peace is not the absence of chaos.
It’s the quiet decision to not become it.

Real strength is not how loud you strike.
It’s how quietly you endure.
How gently you hold what’s sacred —
even when everything around you tries to take it away.

Peace is not something you find.
It is something you build,
Something you protect.
And in protecting it,
you become unshakable.

To stay calm in silence is one thing.
But to stay calm in the face of difference —
to allow others their beliefs, their voices, their ways —
without the need to correct, to judge, or to win an argument —
that is true strength.

From that kind of strength comes clarity.
And when it’s time to rise,
you won’t rise in anger —
you’ll rise in purpose.
And nothing is more powerful
than someone who has tamed the noise within and rises with purpose and clarity.

So hold your bird.
Hold it like it’s your last truth.
Because peace is not the opposite of power —
it is its purest form.
---

Sahishnu
(The strength to stay still)

---
There is a kind of strength the world doesn’t understand.
It doesn’t roar. It doesn’t demand.
It simply holds — gently, like a bird in the palm.
This is your peace.

It doesn’t need to be loud.
It just needs to be protected.

The chaos around you will call it softness.
The noise will mistake it for weakness.
But those who’ve lived through storms know —
Peace is not the absence of chaos.
It’s the quiet decision to not become it.

Real strength is not how loud you strike.
It’s how quietly you endure.
How gently you hold what’s sacred —
even when everything around you tries to take it away.

Peace is not something you find.
It is something you build,
Something you protect.
And in protecting it,
you become unshakable.

To stay calm in silence is one thing.
But to stay calm in the face of difference —
to allow others their beliefs, their voices, their ways —
without the need to correct, to judge, or to win an argument —
that is true strength.

From that kind of strength comes clarity.
And when it’s time to rise,
you won’t rise in anger —
you’ll rise in purpose.
And nothing is more powerful
than someone who has tamed the noise within and rises with purpose and clarity.

So hold your bird.
Hold it like it’s your last truth.
Because peace is not the opposite of power —
it is its purest form.
---

రమణీలలామ నవలావణ్యసీమ ధరాపుత్రి సుమగాత్రి నడయాడిరాగ.. రామ కనవేమిరా...

You worship him, don’t you??

You call him the ideal man.
You say no one respected women like he did.
You bow your head in front of him, name yourself after him, sing about his greatness.

And yet… you forget what he stood for.

He was at her swayamvaram.
He knew she was the one.
Still… he didn’t even look at her directly.
Not even once.
Just a gentle glance, from the corner of his eye.
Quiet. Respectful. Dignified.

And then there’s you:

You stare at me, a complete stranger like I don’t matter.
Like I’m on display. Like I exist for your gaze.
You stop talking when I pass.
You nudge your friend and smirk.
Your eyes speak louder than your words — and they say things I didn’t ask to hear.

I’m not walking here to impress you.
I’m just trying to get through my day.
To reach where I need to go.
To exist peacefully in a world that already makes it hard enough to just be a woman.

I could be someone’s sister.
Someone’s daughter.
Someone’s wife.
Or maybe I’m just me — and that should be enough reason for you to look away.

You bow your head in front of him…
but can’t lower your eyes on the street when you see me.

I just want you to remember this — every time you stare at me,
he turns his eyes away from you..

రమణీలలామ నవలావణ్యసీమ ధరాపుత్రి సుమగాత్రి నడయాడిరాగ.. రామ కనవేమిరా...

You worship him, don’t you??

You call him the ideal man.
You say no one respected women like he did.
You bow your head in front of him, name yourself after him, sing about his greatness.

And yet… you forget what he stood for.

He was at her swayamvaram.
He knew she was the one.
Still… he didn’t even look at her directly.
Not even once.
Just a gentle glance, from the corner of his eye.
Quiet. Respectful. Dignified.

And then there’s you:

You stare at me, a complete stranger like I don’t matter.
Like I’m on display. Like I exist for your gaze.
You stop talking when I pass.
You nudge your friend and smirk.
Your eyes speak louder than your words — and they say things I didn’t ask to hear.

I’m not walking here to impress you.
I’m just trying to get through my day.
To reach where I need to go.
To exist peacefully in a world that already makes it hard enough to just be a woman.

I could be someone’s sister.
Someone’s daughter.
Someone’s wife.
Or maybe I’m just me — and that should be enough reason for you to look away.

You bow your head in front of him…
but can’t lower your eyes on the street when you see me.

I just want you to remember this — every time you stare at me,
he turns his eyes away from you..

Mouni - “Doesn’t speak... until it does.”

They call it nature.
We rest under it, breathe because of it, take from it.
Day after day. Season after season.

But beneath the roots,
Beneath the calm breeze,
Beneath the shade we casually enjoy...
There rests a presence. Watching. Waiting.

Not angry.
Not vengeful.
Just... aware.
Of every scar carved into its skin. Every silence we offered instead of gratitude.

It gives. And gives.
Until one day... it won’t.

This is not a warning.
This is a remembering.
That silence is not absence.
Stillness is not weakness.

And when Mouni speaks:
It won’t be with words.
It will be with storm, fire, and silence that swallows.
It won't be a protest but a reckoning.
Not a cry but a collapse.
Not a whining but one final wave that washes it all away.

And maybe then, we'll realize:
it was never just a forest.
It was a GOD, holding back all along..
🌿

Mouni - “Doesn’t speak... until it does.”

They call it nature.
We rest under it, breathe because of it, take from it.
Day after day. Season after season.

But beneath the roots,
Beneath the calm breeze,
Beneath the shade we casually enjoy...
There rests a presence. Watching. Waiting.

Not angry.
Not vengeful.
Just... aware.
Of every scar carved into its skin. Every silence we offered instead of gratitude.

It gives. And gives.
Until one day... it won’t.

This is not a warning.
This is a remembering.
That silence is not absence.
Stillness is not weakness.

And when Mouni speaks:
It won’t be with words.
It will be with storm, fire, and silence that swallows.
It won't be a protest but a reckoning.
Not a cry but a collapse.
Not a whining but one final wave that washes it all away.

And maybe then, we'll realize:
it was never just a forest.
It was a GOD, holding back all along..
🌿

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Hi, I’m Harish, though I usually go by Mango (AKA MangoPenciler). I love sharing my experiences from the films I watch—not as an expert, but as a fan. My reviews are just my perspective, and I always respect how others see things differently. When I’m not reviewing, I’m turning my favorite scenes into art over on Instagram.

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