Kenistudio

Painting Matsya Avatar - The Spiritual Irony of Protecting the Protector The first of the Dashavatara series painting, the Matsya Avatara, looked quite straightforward in the beginning. A huge fish, Matsya, guiding the precious ship of survivors through the roaring pralaya waters. But I thought, what is the true essence of this avatara? The answer was protection. Of course, we know who protects us. Who other than Lord ShriHari has the capability to sustain the universe? ​A few days later, I was reading a passage from the Bhagavata Purana where Krishna is ready to leave Indraprastha for Dwaraka after the Pandavas have settled in. Yudhishthira, overflowing with love for Krishna, insists that the Lord cannot travel alone and requires bodyguards. It struck me as profound. Why would the Being who safeguards the entire cosmos need protection from mere thieves and wild animals? Yet Krishna accepts the gesture without a second thought. He is not filled with ego. He is complete. So, when He see...

Garuda vs Kaliya. My contemplation of the story from Shrimad Bhagavata Purana.  This is my oil-on-canvas painting that depicts Garuda attacking Kaliya, the serpent king, in an episode from the Shrimad Bhagavata Purana. I wanted to capture the moment when Kaliya’s pride brings him face to face with the consequences of his actions. The story begins in Ramanaka Island, where the serpent race lived under the fear of Garuda, the mighty carrier of Lord Vishnu. To maintain peace, the serpents offered Garuda his share of food at regular intervals. But Kaliya, swollen with pride, began consuming the offerings himself. This was not merely an act of hunger. Kaliya’s action reflected his refusal to respect the order that protected his people. He believed that his strength and venom gave him the right to take what belonged to another. His arrogance eventually brought Garuda upon him. Garuda attacked Kaliya, striking him with his powerful wings. Wounded and defeated, Kaliya fled Ramaṇaka Island ...

 The Quiet Grace of Adivaraha: A Reflection on Divine Kindness and Sadhana ​ When we think of the Varaha Avatara, the mind often conjures images of fierce celestial battles. But when I sat down to paint Adivaraha for my Dashavatara series, I didn't want to capture the fury of battle. He can become fierce. But that fierceness is not the essence of the avatara.  ​I wanted to capture His quiet, unshakeable calm. ​I wanted to paint the serene face of a protector who lifts everything that exists with absolute grace. All because the higher jeevas, endowed with bodies, sadhana-sharira, longed for a realm to perform sadhana and ultimately attain moksha. ​This is the true, overwhelming kindness of the Supreme Lord. He doesn't just grant us our spiritual journey. He builds and sustains the very floor beneath our feet so that we might walk toward Him. ​The Weightless Universe and the Primordial darkness ​In this composition, the backdrop is a deep, swirling darkness. The Lakshmyatmaka Ta...

When I first set out on my Dashavatara series, I assumed the process would be straightforward. Pick pivotal moments from my existing research and translate them to canvas. ​My initial 2020 study of Narasimha, an oil on primed paper, felt obvious at the time. My focus was purely on raw, fiery rage. I wanted a lion’s face consumed by flame with Prahlada standing untouched in the corner. ​However, after finishing the Varaha Avatara and delving deeper into the Bhagavata Purana alongside Sri Madhvacharya’s Srimad Ananda Tirtha Bhagavata Tatparya Nirnaya, my perspective shifted completely. I realized I had to revisit the painting. ​The fire of Narasimha was never aimless fury. It was a metaphorical furnace meant solely to burn away Hiranyakashipu's ego and Adharma. Where the world saw an unnatural, terrifying, and a violent form, Prahlada saw a mother. ​Just like a mother who chastises her child out of intense love, giving him chances to rectify his ways before taking firm action, the Lo...

Vasudeva’s Procession Through the Yamuna We often imagine the journey of Vasudeva from Mathura to Gokula as the journey of hardships, carrying a newborn child at night through a raging river in a terrible storm, but when I came across Sri Vadiraja Tirtha’s description of this journey in Rukmiṇisha Vijaya, I began to see it in a new light. This was not a journey of an escape. It was a procession. On that dark Ashtami night, the Supreme Lord appeared as a tiny newborn child. "Tam adbhutaṁ bālakam ambujekṣaṇam!" Vasudeva placed Him in a wicker basket and set out towards Gokula. As I imagined that journey through Vadiraja’s eyes, the entire universe seemed to become part of His procession. Shesha spread his thousands of hoods above Krishna like a royal umbrella - Chatra seva. Vayu moved gently around Him, performing Chamara seva. The Gandharvas sang and played divine music. The Apsaras danced. Celestial flowers showered from above. Even the thunderstorm seemed to become part of t...

There is a quiet, almost sacred stillness in a forest blanketed by heavy fog. In this study (10" x 14", oil on primed paper), my main intent was to capture that serene, cool atmosphere where light barely breaks through the dense canopy above. ​Building Atmospheric Depth To convey the feeling of stepping deeper into the woods, I focused heavily on value transitions and temperature shifts. The distant trees are rendered in pale, desaturated blue-greys, almost dissolving into the cool haze. As the eye moves into the middle ground and foreground, the values deepen into dark, sculptural silhouettes, creating a dramatic sense of spatial illusion and recession. ​The Forest Floor Below the ghostly veil of mist, the damp earth comes alive. I wanted the forest floor to feel rich and tactile, like damp earth, scattered fallen leaves, and vibrant patches of moss crawling up the mossy bark of the foreground trunks. The contrast between the warm ochres and earthy tones on the ground agains...

This is a painting I completed recently and I am so excited to finally share it with you, along with the journey of how it came to be. This piece is incredibly personal and technically challenging, pushing me far out of my artistic comfort zone. ​The subject is Draupadi , one of the most powerful figures in the Mahabharata, but I wanted to paint a specific, liminal moment: her birth from the sacred yagña fire. ​The Vision: Innocence and Intelligence ​According to scripture, Draupadi did not enter this world as a baby; she emerged as a full-grown young woman. This is what compelled me to paint this exact scene. It’s a moment of profound in-between. I chose this moment because it has a raw innocence of a child but the intelligence and knowledge of a woman. ​You can see that liminal state in her expression. She looks forward with intense energy, ready to fulfill her destiny. As a mother, I couldn't help but see reflections of my own teenage daughter in that face. Especially in those ...