Derwent watercolour and intens pencil colours depicting my imaginations of devatation that took place this mansoon 2025.
The mountains, once draped in green serenity, now bleed with deep scars of landslides. The earth has cracked open, swallowing homes and dreams, leaving behind only ruins where life once thrived. Rains have poured not as blessings, but as a wrathful torrent, and the sudden cloudburst has turned peace into devastation.

Sunken houses whisper silent cries, animals wander in terror, and broken vehicles lie like abandoned skeletons of a world undone. The air trembles with the voices of people—pleading, weeping, calling for help—each cry carrying the weight of loss and despair. Children cling to their mothers, elders search the skies for mercy, and neighbors pull at the rubble with bare hands, fighting against time and fate.

Amidst this chaos, the green of the mountains still peeks through, as if reminding us that hope, though buried, is not lost. In every tear shed and every hand extended, humanity’s spirit still shines—resilient, fragile, yet unbroken.