‘There are years that ask questions and years that answer.’
Zora Neale Hurston
Dear readers,
And here we are, having made it to yet another year, preparing to enter the third year of pandemic. I feel this sentence summarises so much of what I felt about the year that we are bidding adieu to; getting and recovering from covid has put a lot of things in perspective for me, especially vis a vis personal growth and choices. I do inevitably waver every now and then, thinking of all that I could have accomplished, what I didn’t accomplish, what I could have bettered at, what I became worse at. Of course, these end of year rumination are something I always indulge in at the end of each year but I feel this year in particular has intensified the scope of my musings (not to mention, the overriding presence of the pandemic). It’s been a difficult, strange, and perplexing year, where I have found myself questioning, doubting, and above all, frenetically trying to understand why things are the way they are. But the latter has also made me realise that a perpetual sense of mystery or wondering is crucial to living life - and so much of it truly does permeate my life and writing and art. In that sense, it truly has been a year that has both asked questions as well as answered to some extent.
In terms of writing, I am just glad that I was able to produce and share as much as I could. Even though my relationship with productivity is tricky, like so many of us, I have constantly reminded myself that I did what I could in a year that was exceedingly challenging on the health and other fronts. I think what was particularly important for me this year was to understand why it is that I write and I hope that intention/understanding has also trickled through into the writing I have produced. If you would like to see my end of year writing list, please do have a look here.
I have never been particularly fond of either hearing my voice or putting it out into the world; even hearing it while transcribing interviews for articles is akin to nails scratching chalkboards for me. Being so anxious and self conscious, sharing something which is so intimate and personal has always been so nerve-wracking. However, this year, I made a conscious effort to step out of *that* comfort zone. I recorded this poem here, participated in this unique sound installation, Lone Women in Wilderness and finally. recorded a podcast for my Oman essay, which was out earlier this month in The Common Mag. In the latter, I got a chance to talk about both the making of the essay and as well as my writing processes in general. Despite dodgy internet connections and my general awkwardness, I think I managed to speak fairly coherently once I got into the flow of things. I wonder what next in the coming year? Maybe I will finally be able to do a live or a Zoom session?:)
In the podcast and elsewhere, I have been referred to as an artist, which often overwhelms me because I primarily consider myself as a writer. I see the ‘artist’ part of me - the photography or painting, for instance - as simply yet another extension of how I perceive the world and my attempt to process and express all that I see. However, making and sharing my art has also become increasingly important to me over the years. If writing is an urgent need, a catharsis of sorts, an experience which is not always entirely joyful or fun, art, on the other hand, is often simply that: I create for the pleasure for it, for myself, rather than anyone else. So, when there arose an opportunity for me to talk about my art and the important role it has played vis a vis my mental health and more for Jaden magazine, I was truly glad and honoured to have the chance to do so. Sharing the cover below, hopefully I can share the excerpts of the interview once I get my print copy.
One of my favorite newsletters, The Alipore Post invited me to think about this year in form of a Time Capsule, which I thought was such a wonderful way of year-end reflecting that I am thinking of making it an annual event. Here is my year compressed in images; you can read more about my thoughts behind them here. (Also, aside: it was so nice to meet the lovely creator, Rohini behind the newsletter on a beautiful sunny Bangalore morning beneath one of my favorite trees in Cubbon Park, for poetry and more! Offline meetings with online friends has truly been a highlight this year)
I shall end here for now, dear readers. I have so enjoyed sending out these letters almost every month this year and I appreciate all of you who have subscribed or responded or engaged with them. If you have any ideas or suggestions about what you would like to read more about or anything else, please do write in…it’s always a pleasure to hear from you.
In the meantime, here’s wishing you yet another year: happy, content, peaceful, whatever it is that you want it to be. May you keep growing, finding joy in whatever you do, whatever brings a smile to your face. Thank you for being a part of this year with me.
Much love,
Priyanka