Those who had heard Jairaj Santoshi before knew what he was going to say. He fulfilled their expectations. ‘I believe that art, whatever form it takes, is essentially a spiritual journey. It is about transcendence. I have never felt the need to make my work a mirror of contemporary society. Human life and its transactions here on earth are by definition transient. What is eternal is the expanse of the universe and its mysteries. I believe the purpose of my art is to explore that and find expression for the discoveries I make in my humble way. How is a man, puny and inadequate as he is, to comprehend the infinities of the universe? The ancients have told us infinity may be seen in a grain of sand. I see the universe in a drifting leaf or a scampering crab on an endless beach. I paint the veins and fine mesh of dried leaves. I paint the tiny patterned holes in the sand that crabs scamper into. I paint the nuanced shades of rain clouds piled high on the horizon . . .’

Santoshi's long, white hair blows around his neck. His silk jhabba ripples in the breeze stirred up by the overhead fan. His voice is soft, his diction crisp. His speech lulls the audience into acquiescent listening. When it ends, there's a sharp shower of applause.