Badri's watercolours speak the same language. He absorbs rather than seeks out life's common experiences. Meeting Badri after seven years, I asked him the obvious question: "So what's new?" "The same things," he replied, with a smile. And indeed, they were. Changes, ever so slight, coloured and patterned anew. Life rearranged to tell the same stories, stories that never pall. The kaleidoscope given an infinitesimal turn to fascinate with fresh patterns. The bird, grounded but poised for flight to uncharted skies, rivers flowing with life's bounty; from the waters of life rises the mermaid, the human straining to transform, rising from its own downward drag, the fish, man bowing in humility to receive the gift of wisdom and percipience from the hamsa, the mythical swan flown in from worldsunmanifest; women veiled, mysterious, manifest, benign, malignant, supportive, threatening, standing by an everpresent challenge, "the painted veil that those who live call life", its fatal charm, its shakti.

Badri's two journeys out of Mumbai, one to the quiet town of Dharwar on the west coast of India, and the other to New Jersey in the United States, have left their impress on his work. The birth of a grandchild, its dread journey through the womb's tunnel, a journey through the danger of dying and the wonder of infant survival, the nurture and protection of motherhood -- all these make their presence felt. As usual, gently, pervasively, in a wash of feeling and colour.

His American experience floods his canvas with a blaze of autumn colours -- fiery reds, rich browns, molten gold. Badri's Indian fabric, swatches of it, now come dyed in fall colours. The fusion is expressed in tones of absorption, acceptance rather than as an assault on the senses, which is Badri's way. "Creation isself-expression, and expression, to me, should be gentle, subtle, not loud and clear." His unicorn, one-horned and alert, is truth, pure and undivided, flashing past, ever pursued and never quite grasped. Asked what changes, if any, marked his current work, he answered: "Style should never be forced out of its natural drift. Change is not necessarily progress."

Badri has, largely, stood still -- and centred. Like the creators of the famed Ravenna mosaics to which I have always linked him, he is still with the weight of meaning, not static. Art is an exploration of externality. At its most meaningful, the sensuous, the external turns inward, exploring the self. When a work of art rings true, the viewer too is directed inward. It is just such an excursion that Badri offers his viewers.

At Pundole Art Gallery. Till Feb 6. Time: 10.30 am to 6.30 pm.

Lakshmi Lal's The Ramayana (Orient Longman) was illustrated by Badri Narayan.