A once-free, ever-giving peepal tree stands here, its thick branches forced to push through narrow gaps in a sheet of metal roofing that humans have laid around it. The corrugated blue sheets press against its trunk, cutting into the natural space it needs to breathe, expand, and grow. The tree bends and twists unnaturally, as if struggling to escape a cage. Dry leaves scattered across the roof look like silent witnesses to its suffering.

This peepal tree, which should have been respected and protected—especially standing outside a temple—is instead trapped by human convenience. The very structure meant to provide shade and blessings now squeezes the life of a tree that has been offering shade, oxygen, and spiritual significance for generations.

People pass by the temple, fold their hands, offer prayers, but few look up to see this living being fighting for space. Perhaps they’re in a hurry, perhaps they assume “the tree will manage,” or perhaps they simply don’t realise that human constructions, even unintentionally, have compromised its freedom to grow.

But this tree is no ordinary tree.

The peepal is sacred. It releases oxygen even at night, shelters countless birds, purifies the air, cools the surroundings, and is considered a symbol of life, wisdom, and divinity. It is nature’s temple standing beside the man-made temple, yet it receives neither care nor gratitude.

This picture silently asks a question:

If we cannot protect the very tree that stands beside a place of worship, what does worship truly mean?

The peepal tree’s survival is not just its own struggle—it reflects how human neglect can choke the very nature that sustains us

Even in its withered state, the tree with dead leaflets carries a quiet beauty. It reminds us that life is not always about blossoming, but also about enduring with dignity. This is the essence of wabi-sabi—to see charm in imperfection, to accept the passage of time, and to recognize that beauty often lies in the raw, unpolished truth of nature. Just as the tree stands, fragile yet graceful, we too learn that impermanence is not loss—it is life itself, unfolding in its most honest form.

Shinrin-yoku: The Art of Forest Bathing
Shinrin-yoku, a Japanese practice meaning “forest bathing,” is the mindful immersion in nature through walking, breathing, and observing the forest with all senses. Unlike trekking for exercise, it focuses on slowing down, connecting deeply with the sights, sounds, and scents of the forest, and letting nature restore balance to mind and body. Research shows that spending time in green spaces reduces stress, lowers blood pressure, boosts immunity, and enhances overall well-being. Trekking in serene forests is not just an adventure—it is a healing experience, a reminder that nature is both a sanctuary and a silent teacher

On the road to eye-catching landscapes, I travel, paint, and photograph the world—each step and brushstroke reminding me that nature is the greatest healer.

My journey, both as a surgeon and seeker, takes me along the road to eye-catching landscapes—capturing their essence through trekking, painting, and photography.

The road to eye-catching landscapes is where I find balance—whether through the lens of my camera, the colors on my canvas, or the trails carved into mountains

Human interference in nature can lead to very different end results: when actions are destructive, such as deforestation, pollution, overexploitation, and reliance on fossil fuels, the outcomes include climate change, biodiversity loss, resource depletion, and worsening natural disasters; but when actions are sustainable—through conservation, renewable energy, reforestation, and responsible use of resources—they can restore ecosystems, preserve biodiversity, and create a balance where both humans and nature thrive. A striking example is seen in jungles where tigers roam and safari vehicles pass by—if such encounters are managed responsibly, they promote awareness and conservation, but if misused, they disturb wildlife and threaten fragile ecosystems.

Photography as an Art and Therapy

Photography is more than the act of pressing a shutter. It is a language of light and shadow, a way of transforming the fleeting into the eternal. As an art form, photography grants us the ability to express what words often fail to capture: emotion, memory, and perspective. Through choices of composition, framing, and timing, photographers create images that are not only visual records but also personal interpretations of reality. In this way, photography becomes both storytelling and self-expression—art that speaks without words.

Beyond its artistic value, photography has emerged as a form of therapy. With a camera in hand, one begins to notice the details of life: the way sunlight filters through leaves, the textures of forgotten spaces, or the subtle expressions on a loved one’s face. This act of slowing down cultivates mindfulness, grounding individuals in the present moment. For many, photography offers a safe way to externalize emotions—grief, joy, longing—by giving them form in an image.

Therapeutic photography is often used in counseling and personal growth practices, where individuals may capture themes such as identity, hope, or healing. These images act as mirrors of the inner world, making visible what is often hidden. At the same time, the process itself—wandering, observing, framing—can bring calmness, clarity, and a sense of meaning.

If several languages coalesce, the grammar of the resulting language is more simple and regular than that of the individual languages. The new common language will be more simple and regular than the existing European languages. It will be as simple as Occidental; in fact, it will be Occidental.