GulnaarThe monsoon doesnt just whisper serenity sometimes, it burns with passion. The sky weeps, but the earth sings in crimson. The deep red feels like wet rose petals on stone. A kind of boldness only the storm dares bring. The storm has many moods. After the hush of mitti, comes the fire of Gulnaar. A rich cherry red that glows like monsoon roses bold, drenched, and blooming with defiance. The silhouette flows like rainfall over earth. The embroidery?