The village, Churi Ajitgarh, is donned with a mythic moonlight. With its forsaken dilapidated havelis having typical roof contours, deserted courtyards, and the creepy tree trunks grown helter-skelter, the content is engraved. Like a village folk-lore, the patches of moonlight and dark shadows are edging to expand further. All this is relieved by the romantic vast sky with its loney moon. The havelis with weathered expanses of walls and patches of windows and doors create a feeling of deserted interiors, as creepy as the tree trunks. The spontaneity of execution weaves together all of these ‘sanchari-bhavas’ (fleeting emotions) into a folk lore ever anew told by a Dada, Grandpa, to his grand children in the villages.