Description

A cracked, earthen crown rises like a tree or a cloud of memory—its fissures etched with time, its symmetry pierced by a red spine of ritual and rupture. Yellow triangles glint like ancestral markers, embedded in the bark of abstraction, guiding the eye toward a central, unreadable scripture. Beneath, blue-white waves and woodgrain textures evoke the sediment of history, layered with marbled remnants of forgotten forms. Shyam Sharma conjures a cosmology of decay and continuity, where nature, geometry, and language converge in silent tension.