Digital art print of the original artwork. 
Media: Giclée print on archival paper.
Size: A5
 
Manikyavelu Mansion, now known as the National Gallery of Modern Art, in Bangalore, is one of my favourite places in the city. This is where I escape on weekday afternoons. Quietly. Guilt-free. I walk through galleries filled with masters. Then a milkshake or a paratha under the trees. Their café is excellent. After that, I sit. I listen to leaves gossiping. Or to the sound of nothing at all. Sometimes, the luxury of time beats a steady salary and a growing bank balance.
The white Victorian mansion, with its grand porch, stately columns and pierced parapets, was built around 1915 for the Mysore royal family. For a while, it was the largest residence in the city after Raj Bhavan. It later passed into the hands of Manikyavelu Mudaliar, whose rise from rags to riches came through mining. When Mudaliar went bankrupt, the government took over the property in 1970. By 2001, it found its calling as South India’s National Gallery of Modern Art.
The heritage building was restored into a gallery at a cost of ₹8 crore, expanding the original mansion into a generous art space spread across 3.5 acres. I love it for its art. I admire it for its history. But I adore it for the reflective pool and the unmanicured garden. Rain trees. Persian lilacs. Fishtail palms. They sway, whispering stories. And every time I sit there, I feel like I am listening to them all at once.