Multidisciplinary Artist, Painter, Art Educator. Mental Wellbeing Advocate. Creating a life as if it were a work of art itself. Guitar, jazz dance, fitness.
India
Joined November 2009
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A long time ago, I was fired from my job. I had started losing interest in it, I had started showing up late and not giving my best, I had started falling into depression.
My dream was to be an artist, but I could never imagine not having a stable, monthly income. I had grown up seeing my parents work so hard to make ends meet. There was no way I couldn’t do the same. So I did a job, but begrudgingly, and it was visible. That evening, heartbroken after being fired, I messaged mum saying:
“If you ask a beautiful bluebird to walk on the ground instead of soaring the skies, she will be declared a failure.”
And she replied, saying:
“This beautiful bluebird is now free to fly.”
My parents supported me for the next little while, followed by which I took another job. Stayed in Bangalore. Quit another job. Came back to Delhi. Battled a life-threatening illness. Had my first solo exhibition.
And after a few years, I went to Sydney, Australia, to pursue a 3-year degree in Fine Art. This was my second degree, after a first in mass communication.
This picture was taken on the day I was flying out of India, for the first time in my life. I painted a bluebird on the suitcase. A bluebird that was once caught, chained, caged. But now, it was time for the bluebird to fly.
I completed my degree, and after a few more ups and downs and a few more years, I’m happy to say that I am a professional artist and art educator.
Diwali is over, and I am exhausted. Tired. Spent. Not by too much socialising, but rather, by too much shining.
Because on the outside, families, friends, loved ones - everything can seem perfect. But deep down, we are all just imperfect people in shades of grey, trying to hold it all together, keep up with commitments, and leave aside the cracks for a while to focus on love, happiness, and prosperity.
And in the midst of it all, I’m the daughter, sibling, friend, Masi. The single woman who seems to be doing nothing but enjoying her life, traveling, and making art, but is deep down exhausted of being the mediator, the lamp, the light; somehow being the bridge between various people and relationships, sprinkling magic around and healing everyone as she goes.
Does anyone notice this?
Of course not! For true lights in the world are quiet. They don’t burst like firecrackers or pathakas. They just humbly, quietly, sometimes even dejectedly, keep doing their thing.
Have I chosen this life?
I haven’t chosen being single and hence more available to help out and fill in the gaps for other people. But I have consciously chosen to be a light, whether or not anyone notices.
Today, I cried because I thought I was too naive. I had spent hours making handmade gifts for the people I love.
But everyone is not in a place where they know how to receive, openly, the intense love of one’s heart.
And yet, there was that one gift received so beautifully by the friend who was feeling low on this special occasion.
I came to know that he’s not too big on celebrations due to certain memories. So I just had to quickly throw together a lamp that I made from whatever materials were available at hand, such as epoxy resin and translucent blue acrylic stones, and got it portered to him with some chocolates and a card with a note.
I wished him a Happy Diwali, saying:
“A person who glows with so much light has no business feeling alone on the festival of lights.”
Not only did he express immense gratitude - he even told me about the lighthearted banter he shared with his mother, who had read the note out of curiosity.
But it’s midnight, and I no longer feel half as luminous as I did this afternoon. In fact, I was starting to feel low and anxious, but then I reminded myself:
“A person who glows with so much light has no business feeling alone on the festival of lights.”
My dear Arushi, you’re a little light, don’t you know?
And on this festival of lights, shouldn’t you not wallow in exhaustion and anxiety, but celebrate the victory of good over evil, and celebrate, even, yourself?
Come one child, go to bed. It’s ok to switch off for a while.
Even the sun needs to set and then rise again.
Happy Diwali, my friends! Hope you are able to see the radiant light of your own hearts!
Many years ago, when I was in Australia, I was feeling low on Diwali.
My friends asked me why I was sad, and I told them that I was away from family on such an important festival in the Indian tradition.
They asked me what Diwali is. I told them that it’s the festival of lights, where we celebrate the victory of good over evil.
I told them that we light lamps and decorate our houses and do rangoli - drawings we make on the floor with chalk and other materials to welcome Goddess Laxmi into our homes.
That evening, they called me outside.
“What happened?” I asked?
“Oh, just come!”, they said.
So, I stepped out of my room and found that all my friends and flatmates were waiting with coloured chalk.
We all drew on the floors and the walls that evening, laughed, cried, and hugged each other.
I may not have been with family, but I had family around me, even then.
Happy Diwali, friends!
Arushi Nayar retweeted
“Happy Diwali, everyone”
Not too long ago, it used to be the shout of a colleague leaving office, sometimes on Diwali itself, rather than a whatsapp forward or a social post.
You know, back in the 1990s and early 2000s, celebrating Diwali at work was basically coming to office - often even on Diwali (“Does the news stop coming on Diwali, Nimish? Do people stop reading?”). We did get to leave a little earlier than usual, often to do some shopping. There would be groups of people going off to different markets, and notes would be exchanged about where one could get different things at decent rates. We would also often round up contributions to buy gifts for the cleaners and security staff.
The rare colleague with a car - oh they were rare - would often be dragged into helping us and dropping us off. There were not too many cameras, so decorations were token. HRs were more worried about people than about organising team activities , and insisting on “ethnic dress.” There was no elaborate program for social media. Mostly, it was just one or two Diyas outside the office.
Diwali gifts? They often were a half kg packet of sweets from the local Agarwal Sweets corner. Haldiram’s wasn’t big in those days.
The markets were crowded but the jostling was amiable and the traffic was seldom jammed, even though there were fewer overbridges and roads seemed narrower.
We just got on with life. The CEO or editor would often drop in and say “Happy Diwali, everyone” before they themselves left for the day, a few hours earlier than usual. There were nods, smiles, and the odd hug. There was always the odd joker who would try to set off a cracker in office. The HR would frown and let them off. There would be a mild talking-to the next day. Just mild.
I don’t have any pictures of that time - cameras were few and far between and sharing images was not a thing. But that “Happy Diwali, everyone” by a person as they left office for the day remains special. There was no shouting, screaming, decoration or dress code.
There was simple sincerity. No pretension for the cameras.
I kinda sorta miss it.
Happy Diwali, everyone.
#Diwali
All I want for Dhanteras is sona. Time par sona. The ability to sleep well and sleep on time. And be rejuvenated the next morning.
Arushi Nayar retweeted
"And somehow, after washing the day off, it is only in the darkness of the night that my time finally feels like mine again. So then, is it any surprise that I enjoy spending time with it?"
I made something scary today! Wooo! Open at your own risk, for you don’t want nightmares to keep you up at night 😋
(What are pistachio shells, if not dragon heads?)
When I decided to make a DIY lamp out of a bouncy ball, I honestly did not expect the results to be so ethereal.
Do you remember the decorative tapes we picked up from Miniso? I’ve used mine here ☺️ @soodsneha95
Arushi Nayar retweeted
Or as @WaterBaker might know, two people simply sitting together in companionable silence, knowing they can talk if they wish. The best conversations don’t always need words….
I struggle to sleep. I struggle to put my phone away and unwind. The doc prescribed melatonin pills, but I had a better idea.
I’ve created this elaborate lighting arrangement - a bouncy blue ball balanced on the torchlight of my iPhone, kept turned upside down. Just look at the stunning light patterns it casts on the walls!
Now, each time I need to check my phone, I need to disturb my elaborate lamp. That is a real deterrent.
Plus, the little blue dots of light are so beautiful - I wouldn’t give them away for the dopamine hit of looking at a screen for a moment!
Arushi Nayar retweeted
School girls in Sukma district, Chattishgarh
#onassignment
#reporting
Average time it takes me to declare someone a friend: 6 months
Average time it takes me to declare someone a close friend: 2-3 years
According to the above, the average time it would take to establish my closest ever friendship: 4-5 years
For me, life partner must first and foremost be = my closest friend.
Yet,
Average time Indian society expects you to find your life partner: 5-6 days to a month.
The math isn't mathing.
On X, I click 'Home' to reach home.
On most websites, there is a button for 'Home'.
But this festive season, I find myself wondering -
If only it were that simple to reach home, in life also.