The brief was the smallest devotion of all — the morning tulsi watering — given the dignity of a pichwai. We made the woman and her tulsi pedestal the single hero, set against a flat-yellow sun, because the ritual is private and quiet and shouldn't compete with a crowd. The city is flattened into a thin band of pale temple-town buildings so the piece keeps its flat-cloth honesty rather than turning into a streetscape. Beneath, cows graze a lotus pond — the Vrindavan that the tulsi plant has always pointed toward in Vaishnav homes — so a balcony chore quietly opens onto the larger Krishna world. The warm ochre ground holds that early, dusty-gold light.