mid-week weekly update | vol 1

everything i have been upto

this is such a weird time to do a weekly update, right in the middle of the week. but i guess when something sits in my head long enough, it needs to be written down. putting it here makes it real, makes me accountable. i don’t know why, but i feel like ideas slip away too easily if i don’t pin them down somewhere.

so here’s the yap. have you seen those beautifully illustrated travel journals? the kind where people actually sketch what they ate at that tiny ramen shop tucked away in osaka, or capture the silhouette of a temple in tamil nadu while sitting under the shade of a tree? yeah, those artists. those geniuses. i want to be one of them. i am done taking half-hearted pictures, pasting them into my journal like afterthoughts, printing them on flimsy paper that won’t even last a year. not happening anymore.

basically this (source: ig @annasartfoodculture)

it feels strange because i used to be a creative child. i would fill notebooks with doodles, scribbles, and half-finished drawings, but somewhere along the way, i stopped. but i dug through some old boxes today and found things that might help me find my way back.

1. a koi watercolor set, slightly crusty but still good

2. an old black a6 sketchbook with thick pages—perfect for watercolors

3. an ink pen that still flows smoothly, surprisingly

i can already see myself in varkala next summer, sitting by the beach, sketching surfers catching waves. dipping my brush into seawater, letting the salt mix into the pigments, the black book growing soft and sandy from all the real-life sketches it holds. i like the idea of that. i like the idea of creating something that feels lived-in, something touched by the places i’ve been.

for now, i’m trying to draw every day. even if it’s just quick lines, a messy watercolor blotch, something. i think it’s like muscle memory—you have to keep at it, let your hands relearn how to move without hesitation. some days, it feels frustrating. other days, it feels like breathing.

my brother is deep into manga, and since i’m in a reading slump, i caved. i was reading underground by murakami, but this one just isn’t hitting. i usually love his work, but this? this feels like walking through a long, dimly lit hallway and never quite finding the door out. so now i’m on chainsaw man, volume 6. they go by fast—i can finish one in 20-30 minutes. no wonder these series have hundreds of volumes. i like the storyline. except for the weird amount of booby talk from an underage kid. that part’s questionable. but the rest? solid. maybe i’ll turn into a manga reader after this. maybe this is how it starts.

there’s this thing in bangalore every saturday morning called cubbon reads. people from all over the city gather in cubbon park, find a tree, and just read. no small talk. no distractions. just silence and stories. i love the thought of being part of something without having to perform for it. just existing in a space where everyone showed up for the same quiet reason. i’ve gone four times now. thinking of going this saturday too. maybe i’ll bring my family—not that they’ll read, but it could be a nice summer picnic. maybe i’ll sit under a tree and practice drawing live.

this week feels like creativity creeping back into my bones. i like it. i want to hold onto it before it fades again.

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i was driving last night to this café for some tres leches, and the radio started playing songs that revived memories i didn’t even know i had tucked away. they made me smile without thinking-one of those small, quiet joys that creep up on you when you least expect it. i hope they do the same for you.

1. meri ada bhi | rahat fateh ali khan

2. sun re sajaniya | ali zafar

3. o meri laila radio version | joi barua