Tuesday 21 / October / 2025
In a quiet studio tucked away in Qurum, Muscat, vibrant gold leaf shimmers on gessoed panels, and soft whispers of Sanskrit mantras mingle with the scratch of brush on board. Here, the Indian artist Kavita Ramakrishna has, over nearly two decades, quietly built a legacy that transcends mere artistry.
She is not only a practitioner of Tanjore painting but also a yoga mentor, Sanskrit scholar, and cultural ambassador — and through a distinctive blend of tradition and generosity, she has become a living bridge between Indian and Omani culture.
When Kavita moved to Muscat in 2007, she carried little more than family essentials and a lingering childhood fascination for colour. Within weeks of arriving, with no network and little idea of what the future might hold, she found herself painting on makeshift boards.
“I didn’t even know what name to give it then,” she says with a smile. “I only remembered a painting that hung in my father’s house when I was young. Somehow, I felt that connection return here in Oman.”
Nearly two decades later, her work has come to span three distinct but interwoven fields — Tanjore painting, yoga practice, and Sanskrit teaching — which she has brought together in a personal method she calls TanYoga. Her story, told in the rhythms of daily practice rather than grand milestones, is one of patience, gifting, and sharing knowledge.
This organic, humble growth set the tone for her life’s mission: art must be shared, not hoarded.
From curiosity to craft
Kavita recalls her early days in Oman vividly. “The first 45 days were the toughest. I had no work, no classes, no friends. I just began painting whatever I knew. And slowly, people started coming to learn with me.”
She began teaching children and adults in small groups, sometimes even one-on-one. Unlike commercial art schools, she charged no fees beyond the cost of materials. “I didn’t want money to come between me and a student,” she says firmly. “If someone cannot even afford the material, I still won't stop them. What matters is their interest.”
Her teaching approach is rooted in patience and attention. “Even now, every student teaches me something,” she reflects. “With every brushstroke, I notice mistakes, correct them, and learn myself. That exchange is what keeps the art alive.”
Cross-cultural dimension
Tanjore painting, with its rich colours, gesso relief, and sheets of gold leaf, originated in Tamil Nadu centuries ago. Kavita explains it to her students as “painting with prayer.”
She laughs when describing their first reactions: “They look at the gold foil and say, ‘Is this real?’ Yes, it is real — and it teaches patience, because one mistake can spoil the whole board.”
In Oman, Kavita has given this art form a cross-cultural dimension. She has created works depicting Omani forts, mosques, and jewellery, sometimes blending the country’s iconic khanjar dagger or silver ornaments into the Tanjore style.
One painting of the Imty gate in Al Dakhiliyah was presented to local art patrons. Another, featuring a khanjar, was gifted to another senior Omani official at the Omani Society for Fine Arts. “Art should not stay in one corner,” she says. “When you mix cultures, it becomes a bridge.”
Her work has also been appreciated by Indian and Omani authorities alike. Several of her pieces adorn government offices and embassies, but she insists, “I never take payment for these. The joy is in giving, not selling.”
TanYoga: Breath and brush
Kavita’s other passion, yoga, has long run in parallel to her art. Over time, she began merging the two practices. “I noticed that when students came to class, their minds were scattered. They were worrying about work, school, and home. So I said, let’s begin with breathing, with a few stretches. Only after that, we will touch the paintbrush.”
This led to what she now calls TanYoga — an integration of yoga and Tanjore painting. In her sessions, participants start with pranayama or simple asanas before settling into the careful rhythm of sketching and applying colour.
“When your breath is steady, your hand is steady,” she explains. “And when your mind is calm, the painting flows. Both yoga and art bring you into focus — they are different doors to the same room.”
Some sessions have even been used in collaboration with wellness centres in Muscat to help manage stress.
Giving without expectation
One of the most distinctive aspects of Kavita’s journey is her refusal to commercialise her work. Over the years, she has gifted dozens of paintings to schools, embassies, and cultural institutions.
“Sometimes people ask, ‘Why do you give away so much?’” she admits. “But I feel the painting should go where it belongs. Once it is complete, it is no longer mine.”
Her students echo this generosity. Some are children from Indian schools in Oman, others are working professionals seeking a creative release.
Kavita insists on personal attention, preferring small groups over large classes or online batches. “Teaching on a screen does not give me the same connection,” she says. “I like to see how a student holds the brush, how they breathe while painting.”
“People often share their worries while painting,” she says. “The colours, the gold, the focus — it gives them a pause from daily stress. That, for me, is more important than a finished painting.”
Beyond the canvas
Kavita’s work also extends into scholarship. She teaches Sanskrit and has written a book, Tamoghna, on the philosophy and science of Surya Namaskar (sun salutations). She once performed 648 rounds in one stretch to advocate health and wellness.
Despite these achievements, she speaks with characteristic modesty. “Awards come and go. What stays is the discipline of daily practice. Whether it is painting one small detail or doing one round of Surya Namaskar — that practice is what gives meaning.”
Even her family reflects her artistic ethos. Her son, a trained percussionist, often integrates rhythm into painting sessions. “Music and art share a heartbeat,” she notes. “A brushstroke has its own rhythm. When music is added, it becomes alive.”
Looking ahead
Kavita hopes to expand her TanYoga concept through collaborations with health and cultural institutions. Her NGO, also called Tamoghna, is exploring ways to use art and yoga as complementary therapy for mental health.
She also dreams of training younger teachers who can carry forward the traditions of both Tanjore painting and Sanskrit.
“Knowledge is not meant to stop with me,” she says. “If even one student goes on to teach another, then the cycle continues.”
Over her many years, she has gifted more than 50 paintings to various dignitaries and institutions — always refusing to accept money for the art. On a lighter note, when asked about charging a token “Dakshina” (honorarium), she demurs — she only accepts small book fees, nothing more.
Her free-spirit model embodies a Gurukul ethos: close teacher–student bond, personal attention (often one-on-one), and a shared journey of growth.
For Kavita, the journey that began with a remembered childhood painting and a blank board in Muscat has grown into a way of life. Her studio remains a place where gold leaf glitters, where students pause to breathe before they sketch, and where the gift of art flows freely — offered, like her words, with simplicity and sincerity.
TanYoga: Painting as meditation
Kavita Ramakrishna’s innovative TanYoga blends two ancient Indian disciplines: Tanjore painting and yoga. The practice begins with gentle stretching and pranayama (breath control) exercises, before students approach their painting boards. The focus is on mindful engagement: steady breath, patient strokes, and deliberate colour application.
“Painting itself is a form of yoga,” Kavita explains. “When your mind is focused and calm, your hand moves with intention. Every stroke becomes a meditation.”
Students report more than artistic skill. Many find relief from stress, improved concentration, and emotional release. Kavita also adapts sessions for women’s wellness and mental health, offering breathing techniques and meditation cycles alongside the painting process.
“The gold, the colours, the focus — it teaches patience and brings inner calm,” she says. “Even if you’ve never painted before, you can experience it. It’s not about making a perfect piece; it’s about feeling centered while creating.”
Through TanYoga, Kavita hopes to make both art and yoga accessible, turning her classroom into a space where creativity and mindfulness meet.
