Imagination, fantasy, reverie, dreams… What do all these words have in common?

They represent a space, of limitless possibilities, a world of yours and your own. An imaginarium of sorts ~A place that is not really there, yet it is, a part of the subconscious. One which houses all the beauty that inspires, the wonderful things that you love and hold dear, exist together to form an oasis. It is where everything is allowed because the combination of elements is endless.

Charted and uncharted territories of one's dreams, an echo from forgotten days or a familiar call from unseen distant lands. There are no rules, reasoning or logic.

It is the birthplace of creativity, of everything that is art. Through it we create different worlds that inspire and fuel other artistic endeavours. 

One thing that is evident in this world is that we always have and always will communicate and understand one another better in some form of art. It is a universal language of communication. Or how else can one explain the intrinsic human compulsion to create?

We want to share a glimpse of our imaginarium, in a hope that someone dreams of it too and will therefore understand, all the while we want to see a glimpse from other imaginariums, and that is why we seek art. We seek it daily, in our choice of music, movies, artworks for our homes, patterns on our clothes, books that we read, places that we travel to.

You  may travel across the seas and continents just to come across something familiar or nostalgic, and it's fascinating. There is a wonderful comfort in that. Sharing the elements of our imaginarium.The word Kalpanik itself means originating from imagination, however if you want a glimpse of the Kalpanik imaginarium, you will find a verdant garden  fragrant with roses and jasmines, and with a lingering smell of the sandalwood agarbatti or perhaps it is oud.

Where fading pictures of gold leafed deities are adorned in handcrafted textiles and rich jewel toned colours, further in the horizon are sand dunes and dotted with lakes full of water lilies, delve a little deeper and you’ll come across structures with colourful marble inlays and intricate wooden carvings, with murals of dancing birds and beasts.

Step inside and you’ll see the walls are made of mud encrusted with mirrors, the mughal arches lead you into a labyrinthe of rooms, one is full of magnificent & mysterious old world tapestries to another that is full of the most exquisite artworks framed by exceptionally  ornate frames, one is laden with persian rugs walls of golden mosaics, yet another full of stone and marble figurines that can be mistaken for real, surrounded by winding swirls and whirls of neverending rococo carvings.

Towards the end of the elaborate hall you come to an almost window like door that opens onto a terrace with views of snow tipped mountains and valleys with flower blooming trees. The air is pure with a touch of sweetness, you can hear music, is it a sitar, maybe piano or perhaps someone is singing, an echo of a songbird.