Crimson Kalpavriksha

A single wish-fulfilling tree fills the panel, rising from exposed roots and a gold jaali platform into a canopy that spreads almost to the edges. Crimson roses, blush blossoms, white jasmine sprays and split pomegranates crowd through sage and olive leaves — every good thing flowering on one tree at once, the way the Kalpavriksha has always been painted. Two blue birds face each other across the trunk. Behind them a low green horizon carries rounded distant trees and a scatter of wildflowers, and the whole scene is held inside a cusped arch with dark floral spandrels on aged ivory.

Painted in the fine stippled manner of Indian court work, where every petal is drawn rather than suggested. The tree grows upward, in full bloom, unbroken — the form Vaastu asks for in a tree painting.

It is symmetrical and quietly ceremonial, and it wants a wall it can own. Best on a north or east wall: above an entryway console as the first thing a visitor meets, centred over a bed, or on a dining room wall where the deep reds pick up brass and warm lamplight. The ivory ground keeps it from feeling heavy, so it sits comfortably in a pale modern room without needing anything else around it.