The Mughal ruins that pop up amid the chaotic shrubbery in the vast expanse of Mehrauli Archaeological Park do not disrupt the landscape as modern buildings do. They do not hamper our ability to breath freely in open space and they do not jar at our vision. Instead they seem like old precious jewels scattered in a handful across the land by passing invaders for us poor succeeding generations to gaze at for a moment before going home.
Mehrauli Archaeological Park. Graphite, Watercolour Pencil, Pastel in my Moleskine Sketchbook