In the folk songs of the eastern hills, Keshar Kali walks among the paddy, her anklets made of rice husks, her hands dusted with saffron. The grains sprout in rhythm with her dance. They say when her veil touches the water, lotus blooms arise where none should grow. In the silence of dusk, children are told to hush, for the goddess passes then, counting the rice in every granary, bles... https://kesharkali.com/products/keshar-mahak-rice-10-kg-bag/