The brief was to paint children's play without borrowing the tarpa dance grammar that dominates tourist Warli posters. Communal-ring symmetry fits a ring game, not a harvest ritual: small squatting figures face inward, arms extended, knees bent — but there is no musician at centre, no linked hands spiralling outward, no moonlit festival band. We kept the circle open. Negative space at the middle reads as the play floor itself, the patch of ochre where feet shuffle and the ball skips. Density stays light — Mokhada village scatter around the ring, not horror vacui. What we refused: a tarpa player dropped into the hollow centre; a second concentric ring that would read as dance; perspective depth on the hut or trees. What we kept legible: the ball toss at twelve o'clock with motion ticks, ponytail strokes for girls, and the scale difference — children drawn smaller than adult chore figures elsewhere in the catalog so the ring feels like play, not ceremony.