April is here, March already seeming distant
Bangalore spring/summer, of rejections and acceptances, and color mood journaling + art I want to escape into
Dear readers,
Hope this finds you well wherever you are…and depending on the hemisphere you are in, embracing a new season tiptoeing into your part of the world. Here, Bangalore feels like summer (the number of messages/tweets I have sent out complaining about how hot it is, ha) and yet, glimpsing many of the trees enveloped in blossoms makes it look so much like spring. In fact, just gazing down from my balcony alone, I can see clouds of fuchsia, vermilion, and ivory bougainvillea, mauve jacaranda, rose quartz-hued Tabebuia rosea (though they are gradually losing the blooms), the cheerful sunshine yellow of copper-pods, and bits of flaming red Gulmohar peeking through the undulating green. Some trees are wearing bright green new leaves while others are resolutely bare, seemingly content to let the other trees display their flower finery while they themselves rest and take pause for a bit. Once more a reminder for me to let things unfold as they are doing, knowing that my journey is proceeding exactly as it is meant to do no matter how much my restless mind would like to steer it to and fro:)
Speaking of journeys, specifically my writing one, I have lately been thinking a lot about rejections/things not working out for several reasons and thought to write about it over here. I personally find reading Twitter threads/notes about writers’ journeys both insightful and reassuring, knowing that we are but sailing the same boat and so thought to share mine, in case it may resonate with any of my readers. After my months’ long hiatus, when I once more returned to pitching organisations and outlets and submitting my literary work, I found both the process of submitting/pitching and their outcome extremely difficult to accept. There were several times when I was ghosted in the case of the former, in the latter, I received some swift rejections for a poem I had worked upon for months (I also ranted about it on Twitter but please, whoever writes rejection notes, more of ‘We enjoyed reading your works very much but they will not work for the present issue’ as opposed to ‘We cannot use your poems’! Just no). And then, last month, when I was offered to conduct a workshop here in Bangalore, only one person signed up, resulting in the workshop being cancelled!
I write about these things here as much a reminder for me about how much I have progressed to accept and take these rejections in stride (as opposed to sulking and unable to write again for days) while acknowledging that it is valid to feel that they sting and get me down. I also tell myself that rejections are entirely subjective, based on one person/team’s response towards the poetry and of course, the spirit of the publication that I am submitting to. I am grateful to all those editors who still take the time out to respond to a pitch or write encouraging words in the rejection notes because I feel they still saw and engaged with my work in some way and that really means a lot in these times of time and attention scarcity. Having said that, as others too say, when the acceptances do arrive in your in-box, they truly do light up the day and make worthwhile the often dispiriting moments when I ask myself why I have chosen writing of all the things to pursue. I am especially glad to share that a short story which saw both many versions and many rejections will be featured in an anthology featuring plant and flower stories, which I believe will truly be the most apt home for it. And given my preoccupation with home, finding and locating it, that’s another thing: every piece of writing has a home that it is destined to appear in, it is just a matter of searching and looking for it although I agree it involves having lots of patience and perseverance! (Aside: and that also includes those pieces which appeared in magazines that suddenly close down and find themselves homeless again!) Also, regarding the workshop, I got so much support from so many who shared stories and tweets about it that I still feel encouraged to give it another go. It won’t happen for a few months but it will happen, for sure.
Incidentally, one newsletter which I have found to be such an incredible resource regarding the world of literary journals and the wild ride that is submitting and more is Becky Tuch’s Lit Mag news so do check it out here.
Another thing I had also taken a break from during my hiatus was painting, specifically, watercolours, which was something I picked up during the early days of the pandemic and have found soothing for so many reasons. It’s funny but I don’t really use my writing desk for much writing (except for journaling) as I do for making art (the writing mostly happens on my living room couch facing my balcony:) There is something quite calming and insulating about sitting down at the desk with my watercolour set, brushes, and a jar of as yet clear water, wondering what color the water will turn into as a result of my explorations. One idea I wanted to explore at the beginning of the year was a color mood journal, transcribing my moods in form of colors, which play such an important role in my life, seeing, engaging with, and writing about them. I had to find the right sized journal for it - nothing too big, nothing too small - and as always, flowers found a way into it, specifically dried ones that I had either bought to adorn my home or that I picked up during walks. I am painting the distilled colors of the flowers but I’m also bottling up my moods so to speak with accompanying words, remembering what I felt at that very moment. I haven’t been very regular with the journaling but you can see glimpses on my Instagram.
Meanwhile, this month, I was dreaming of escaping to this bougainvillea-enveloped rose pink haveli…
Or finding comfort in the seemingly mundane yet beautiful tablescapes, the table becoming an island of refuge and contemplation. I have an ongoing obsession with all the beautiful vases I encounter in art and especially love the ones that Rachel paints. When I started following her on Instagram, I was especially delighted to learn she actually makes some of the vases herself. Loved seeing the tangible ceramic and painted versions in one example here.
I shall end now with the hope the coming month as always treats you well and kindly. And so, until next time, dear readers, sending much love,
Priyanka
**
Endnotes:
What I wrote:
While I have written a lot about home, identity, and more in various contexts and forms, of late, I have found myself often dreaming of and yearning for the physical house, specifically, the house that I grew up in Oman. I wrote about it for The Markaz Review’s ‘Home’ issue, where I explore at length about how the childhood house is a powerful receptacle of childhood memories and associations - and whenever you think of the spaces and places you grew up in as a child, you will forever be the child whenever you encounter them again, whether in memory or reality. You can read the piece here.
In last month’s newsletter, I mentioned my visit to Museum of Art and Photography (MAP); here is my piece for Art News, where I spoke to the founder, Abhishek Poddar, director, Kamini Sawhney, and other associated people about the museum’s story along with my thoughts about the opening exhibitions and commissions.
I wasn’t sure if I would embark upon the NaPoWriMo challenge, writing a poem a day all through the month of April, which is also known as the National Poetry Month. However, I am now halfway through - and you can read one of the poems here at my Instagram, which is where I am sharing as always (and if you want to see the previous entries, do check out the NaPoWriMo 2023 Highlights on my main page). I find it interesting how I am writing longer narrative style poems as opposed to shorter, lyrical and imagistic ones this time round.
What I read:
Books
A Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit
I have been intending to pick up this essay collection for a long time and so glad I finally did - I have read only two essays so far and one of them coincidentally also featured Solnit dreaming of her childhood home.
Murder in Simla by Bulbul Sharma
I am not much for whodunits but I couldn’t resist picking up this book as it was set in Simla during the colonial times. I particularly enjoyed how the book evoked the landscape, especially the lovely gardens, the pine-scented air, and the cottages. For long, I have made plans to visit hill stations in India during the summer but somehow they have never worked out…the prospect of following winding trails through pine forests, inhaling the sharp mountain-scented air and sitting in a flower-filled garden while sipping on a hot chocolate seems so inviting at the moment.
Desperate in Dubai by Ameera Al Hakawati
The title says it all, ha but it was exactly the sort of read I needed to break my reading slump of the past few months. Given that I was familiar with a lot of Dubai landmarks and lifestyle probably made the book lot more of an enjoyable, escapist read for me. The novel does challenge and re-present stereotypes about Arab women’s lives although the plot and writing can be really uneven at times. The book originally began as a series of blogposts before the author got a book deal and eventually concluded the story in form of a book.
Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri
This is more of a re-read, given that I have either given away or misplaced my previous copies during moves - and after having a Twitter chat about it, I got hold of a copy once again (and which I am determined to hold onto this time!) After reading the stories, all I can say is that I am just so glad that Jhumpa is returning with yet another short story collection, Roman Stories (which she and another translator have translated from the original Italian) and will be released in October. I personally prefer her short stories to her novels, the novella at the end of Unaccustomed Earth, Hema and Kaushik being my favorite.
Have begun reading If An Egyptian Cannot Speak English; the author, Noor Naga co-edited The Common’s portfolio of writing from the Arabian Gulf, which appeared in Issue 22 and which also featured my essay, Oman is Mars: An Alien All Along so I loved that connection:)
Links:
I believe in coincidences although I have questioned my belief in them from time to time so was glad to read this long read thoroughly exploring the many facets of coincidences.
This piece is a stunning ode to both star gazing and how we remember memories
Loved reading this story of "about how history and imagination infect one another" through the Delhi tomb of a sixteenth century court poet and saint, Jamali and his unknown companion, Kamali
This piece about how the soothing, repetitive nature of craft can assuage grief really resonated with me.
I loved reading about this kickass lady teaching older women to be fashion rebels. Iris Ipfel at age 101 is such an incredible style icon with her maximalist fashion choices and one can just sense how much fun she is having with what she wears, creating amazing style narratives.
This piece about an archaeologist who’s been studying death for years and how she wrestles with grief following the passing of her husband immeasurably moved me. Those last lines haunted me for a long while. TW: death, illness, grief
Another piece whose last line lingered with me was Maggie Smith’s essay about how a poem of hers went viral and led to the dissolution of her marriage. It is an excerpt from her upcoming memoir which I will look forward to reading.
What I watched:
Love is Blind S4 on Netflix
I know, I know but I am a sucker for reality shows and particularly if I have watched the previous three seasons. The producers should stop calling this show a dating experiment though and say it what it is: yet another dating reality show. I actually preferred this season much more than the previous ones due to the participants involved, in fact, one of the couples’ love story is so wholesome and actually for once reiterates the show’s premise of falling in love with a person without seeing them.
The Marvelous Ms. Maisel’s final season has just dropped - and I would be interested to see how Midge’s journey now evolves. I have just seen the first episode and as always, in awe of the art direction and sets. Thought it was an interesting framing device to open up with her daughter, Esther (whom we barely see in the earlier seasons, perhaps, indicating how little the children seemingly figure in Midge’s plans and ambitions) complaining to her therapist about her mother in the future.
This newsletter really resonated with me. I’m in a similar phase of learning to accept the rejection and move forward.
Also the water colour painting sooo cute
I love when your titles are not just about the month but about the transition, both and the in-between. <3 A big lavender hug for you and your water colour times :)