Days turn to years

Think of it like this: you can go years without being in touch with yourself, too overwhelmed with the external noise, and you will never know.

You can go years without documenting what you feel because your feelings don't seem valid or important anymore.

You can do years without sharing your pain because it seems like it doesn't matter.

But it matters. 

You have something to lose. This.

The last three months of 2022 were overwhelming(ly good). But mostly overwhelming. So many new experiences to absorb, personal limits to be pushed, and flights to be on. I went to two corners of the world, first the west, and then the east. San Fransisco and then Bali. I was incredibly lucky to pull out my old fashion rotting away in the cupboards, and mix and match it for the warm, cold and the windy. I saw wonderful art, collected memorabilia, and people and their stories. I met friends, old and new.

I pushed myself at work and finished projects and hosted events.

I had friends over, and we cooked, and we sang and made music.

In retrospect, my life almost felt like it was playing to the lyrics and music of this song (one of my favourites)!

Cheers to keeping the documentation here, alive. Because it's a good life✌🏼

An outfit that happened by chance

 

I went to my dear friend Upasana's home for Ganesh Chaturthi, and having worn sarees at my home for two whole days prior, I was in no mood to continue that,  as I set off for her home. I wore a puffy courdroy top and pants, looking chic as ever. A 40-minute drive through Bangalore's bad roads later, I was ready to collapse on her couch as soon as I reached.

She was busy with her baby when I got there, and I made myself some tea as the evening carried on. Soon as she was done, I realized she had other designs. She had laid out two sarees, her makeup case, and had plans to drag me to the terrace for a photoshoot! (Another reason I love her).

I gave in, patiently, but in no way was I going to change into a saree blouse (It wouldn't fit me, anyway). I kept my top on, pulling down the sleeves and draped the saree. It was pure cotton, heavy but flowy. I gave in to the mysterious mind of the folds as the saree sat on my body. I cleaned up the folds and arranged them - a midway on how they wanted to arrange themselves and how I wanted them arranged!

I think I have discovered the art of draping. Not enough practice, but getting there. The terrace greeted us with a view of the golden sunset, and rooftops under the Bangalore skies. 

And then, this magic happened. #unedited

Love,
Shubhi!