Monday, June 29, 2015

Staple

This blog has not only been a space for my ramblings, rants and scribbles but also one for experimentation with my personal style. I’ve spoken about how I enjoy creating outfits based on themes, characters and stories I’ve written. Usually I also just narrow it to a single piece in my head and create an outfit with that. I’ve lately discovered that though I experiment so much with how I pair each clothing item in my wardrobe, I do have a favourite. Something that I think others would associate as an image in their head with my name, something you’d definitely catch me wearing a lot and something I usually gravitate towards unthinkingly. 

Basically, an outfit like this is not only simple to put together but also really makes it seem like you’ve put a lot of effort, more so if you’re running short on sleep and still want to look decent. So obviously this became my go-to outfit during college when I had to get ready in five minutes and almost never had more than 2 hours of sleep. Most days I’d end up wearing printed pants and kurtis or tops along with some layered bracelets and necklaces. There’s something about printed pants that makes them so effortlessly lovely to look at. And my hair was usually fuss free in a bun/top knot or a braid. But since I’m not in college, why not let it be now!

Someone messaged me on The Sonshu page on Facebook recently, asking for suggestions for college outfits. I realised I hadn’t ever really documented what I wore to college most days so ta-daaaah! 






Also, it’s become really hard to shoot for the blog because the winds are insane, so as you can see, everything is flying. 

Oh oh oh, tell me what your staple outfit is, or maybe even what you wore/wear/plan to wear to college? 

Outfit details: 
Pants: Colaba, Mumbai
Shoes: Westside
Top: Goa
Necklaces: Levitate and Commercial Street 


Kbai. 


Love,
Sonshu 


Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Vacation in the Clouds

Hi you, 

As a recent graduate (not even a month old), the most popular question in my life has gone from “What’s up?” to “Have you got a job?” (No, really, not even kidding). I’m quite tired of the horrified looks I get when I say I’m taking a break. I know that for some this question comes from a place of curiosity and others, care, but I think that this is the first time in years that I don’t have something that will necessarily go on my resume and I’m okay with that. Almost everyone associates ‘taking a break’ with someone who is directionless in life.

I’ve always been someone who constantly works, project after project, not a breather. This decision to take a break was a well thought out one, and when I made it I know that a lot of peers were shocked (still are), and a lot of other friends are quiet stunned too. But it’s okay to not always be that person who works non-stop. 

The last three years have been crazy in terms of the number of assignments, internships, freelance work and what not. I’m not tired, but I want to take a break to focus on some self teaching, some personal projects (writing, designing, painting) till I find something I really want to do. I’d rather wait around than accept a job that’s going to make me frustrated every morning. It’s important to enjoy and love what you do, because that’s when the killing, the pressure, the work, feels really good. And I can say that because I loved everyday of what I studied - the subjects, the assignments, the work, the endless papers I had to read, the writing - it was something that truly made those sleepless nights worth it. 

This is turning out to be a rant. I just wanted to throw it out there for everyone reading.

It’s been a month and a few weeks of this break and I’m so glad to have taken it. It has given me time to travel, read, draw, paint and learn so many new things that I’ve always wanted to. It’s okay if none of these things are going on my resume. They’re always going to stay with me, and I’m okay with that. 






2,3 and 4 were shot when I wasn’t ready, and somehow they still made it to the post. I guess it’s good to go with the unpredictable every now and then? 

Also, yes, new header and theme for the blog. (Surpriseeeee) I really wanted a change from the previous one so I decided to mess with some patterns and drawings and designed this. What do you think? 

Outfit details: Top: River Island, Pants: H&M, Clutch: Splash 


Thank you for your lovely comments, messages and responses to my previous post. It really does feel lovely to be back!

Love,
Sonshu 

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

I’m alive.

Hi. 

I won’t blame you if you’ve assumed I’m dead, hibernating or never coming back. After reading numerous posts on how to get back to your blog after taking a break I’ve decided that I’m not going to follow anything I’ve read. How can I just not talk about my absence from the blog and just avoid it like it should get a hint and run away? Not happening. 

I stopped blogging in October, and back then it wasn’t conscious decision. I didn’t just wake up and decide to stop blogging. It happened. Amidst the piles of work and sleepless nights, I stopped having the ability to process my thoughts here. I was still writing, for class, but I never figured out how to access this space again. For a while I just got caught up with assignments. But then, in the last month or so of being relatively free, it’s been hard to return here.  

I think I just felt like I had too much to say, too much to catch up on and I’d been gone too long. Everything looked unfamiliar. 

Today, I woke up and decided that I was tired of feeling like a stranger on my blog and that is why I’m here. For a long time I felt like I’d outgrown this space or I couldn’t do this anymore but that wasn’t it. I’ve written on this blog since before I could construct meaningful sentences, there’s so much here and this blog has been a constant in the process of growing up. It always will be. I think the unfamiliarity scared me. But I’m done with waking up and feeling like I can’t write here. 

A little break the ice thing since it’s been long: 

I’ve been painting and documenting my doodles and drawings on everydaywithart.tumblr.com
I’ve been travelling a lot more in the last two months than I have in the last two years. 
Being back on this blog feels really nice. It always was my happy space.
There’s a surprise coming up soooooooooooooon.
 I graduated. I’m done with college. 
 I cut my hair a while ago. 
I’m still fat. 
Kthenks.









Outfit details: Skirt: Splash, Shoes: American Swan

I’ve often been told, "Oh Sonaksha, you look so pretty, but...if you lost a little weight beta (child).” I’m so tired of the buts. I’m so tired of having to appear thin. So I decided to wear this - a crop top and this skirt that I love and everyone else hates because it ‘makes me look fat’. Well there’s nothing to be made, because I am. 

Now that it’s out of the way. 

I’ll see you soon.

I’ve missed you. 

Love,
Sonaksha 

Friday, October 3, 2014

Scared






Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked.  

Enveloped in the silky layers of the night sky, you get lost in your thoughts. Swirls of energy, whooshing noises intersecting, all inside your head while you lay there, eyes closed, trying to sleep. It never comes. 

You think about that time when you were too scared to say anything, and could feel your words fly away with the silence in the air. Or that time when you wanted to cry, but held yourself because you had to remain strong. And thoughts of that time when you forgot how to think, forgot what it was to comprehend, and for once listened to your heart, your nerves and the blood gushing through them. Or that time when you really wanted to write something, but found yourself staring at a blank page for hours because some things are just hard to write about. 

Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked. 

You walk into a room and feel like you were supposed to do something, but you can’t remember. You  call her, feel like you were supposed to say something, but there are no words. You pull out the book, knowing you wanted to read, but nothing makes sense. You stare at the sky, waiting for it to rain, but the sulky clouds stare back at you, frustrated.

You wait. You count minutes. You wait again. You count some more. You continue waiting. Waiting for that letter you never received, waiting for that call that never rung, waiting for the train that never came, waiting for the flowers that froze. 

Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked. 

The fan is moving too fast, the bedsheets are crumpled, the place smells like dried jasmine and the skies turn to a dirty grey. You’re stuck there, feeling trapped and hopeless and just as you think you’re numb you can sense every hair on your body rise, and every organ in your body pump blood faster than those windmills you saw on your first road trip. Just as you think you’re numb you hear the incessant horns and the blaring beats of the drums. Just as you think you’re numb you see flashes of that time you watched a movie together, and when you sat and spoke about togetherness on that lonely bench. Just as you think you’re numb you can feel that mosquito sit on you. Shoo.

Just as you think you’re numb, you come alive. 

Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked. 

You are tired of shutting up. You are tired of not saying anything. You are tired of the explosions in your head. You are tired of the silence. You are tired of the blaring thoughts. And then you say it. Everything you’ve ever wanted to say, unedited, unfiltered. You talk faster than your colliding thoughts, you mumble, whisper and scream, unsure of how to do this. You switch topics, you switch tenses, you switch memories. 

And then you regret it.

Maybe somethings are better left unsaid, in the head. 

Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked.

Comfort; you look for it in your home, you look for it in words, you look for it in those songs you’re constantly listening to. Love; you look for it in the movies you watch, you look for it in the people you know, you look for it in the abstract. Safety; you look for it in places others have never tried, you look for it in work, you look for it amidst familiarity. Memories; you look for it in photographs you’ve stored in that old box, you look for it on your phone, you look for it in tattered books.

I know where to find comfort, love, safety and memories. Maybe I’m just scared to go there. 

Nights; they seem too long, and you still wish that dawn never knocked. 



Top: Thrifted -Mumbai, Vest: Stolen from mom, Watch: c/o Daniel Wellington

Photography: Shashreek Shridhar 


Love,
Sonshu

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Paralysis


Do you ever feel like you know exactly why something happened? Like you can chart out specific reasons and be satisfied with the explanation for a relationship lost? Maybe there never really is a complete explanation for why something ends, just as there isn’t an explanation for why something begins. Most times, I feel like you and me, we’re standing unaware of what is going to hit us, it passes by back and forth, and we still don’t know. There’s a sense of looming doom, a sense of looming disappointment, but we choose to ignore it. And then it happens. It hits you, in bits and pieces you find yourself withering away, tearing apart and trying to find something or someone to hold on to. You always want to know why it happens, but you never really find out.

“I love you more than I hate everything else."

So you stand there, being hit by these forces, changing and unchanging as you go. You stand there, raw and vulnerable. Parts of you are being snatched away, creating holes, creating voids and creating distances. And then you gather the courage to stand, broken, bent and bruised. You tell yourself that this happens to everyone, it’s as cliché as cliché gets, it’s normal and it’s ok, but it never really is ok. Even if it’s the 6th time that it has happened to you, even if you’ve expected this to happen, even if you’ve seen it happen to someone else. It’s never the same. It hits you bad, every single time. 

“All of it was good, in every sense of the word. And in this life, nothing good is truly lost. It stays part of a person, becomes part of their character. So part of you goes everywhere with me. And part of me is yours, forever.

And sometimes this might just be a little incident for someone else who is watching. They’ll say you’re a drama queen and you’re over reacting. But no one ever feels like another, so how do you expect them to understand? How do you expect them to understand that you can’t feel anymore. That time stops, internal, external. Everything and everyone else is ticking, but your clock stops. You feel like it’s all spinning around you, everyone’s walking fast, running even, but you just want to stand there. You just have to stand there, because you can’t move. Paralysed by the voices in your head, paralysed by those nasty thoughts you’ve tried pushing away, paralysed by people’s words, paralysed by love, paralysed by intensity, and paralysed by being. 

“As time goes on, you’ll understand. What lasts, lasts; what doesn’t, doesn’t. Time solves most things. And what time can’t solve, you have to solve yourself."

So maybe all those times you looked out, trying to find demons, trying to find flaws, trying to find a catch, it was you. You were the monster, you are the monster. And that makes it worse. Because maybe every time we looked outside, trying to find someone or something that would break us, we knew the answer was inside, inside of us. 

And just as the monster exists within us, we also know that there exists a fighter. History has told us that just as there is injustice and cowardice, there is courage, compassion and justice. And so we wait, till we can the fight that in ourselves, and continue to hope that everything that seems lost and forgone can be found and built again. We hope that time doesn’t take away the fragments of what is left from us. We hope that we can find it, before oblivion finds us. 

“And in the end, we were all just human...drunk on the idea that love, only love could heal our brokenness."

We ask people, we look for answers in words, we listen to music trying to heal, trying to fix ourselves and saying it will get better. But it never does. You wake up, you dress up, you eat and you sleep. But you never stop thinking about it, about how different it could have been. About the things you should have done and about the things you did. You heal, but you never really do. 

“Guilt is the price we pay for doing what we are going to do anyway.

And today it hurts, tomorrow it will hurt and 10 years later a memory of it will trigger hurt. But all this pain will cause something, it will create something inside you. That something will be worth it. It always is. 

Pain changes you, for the better or the worse, but it always does. 

And you know what? The strongest, bravest and smartest of us are touched by pain. The strongest, bravest and smartest of us need someone when we are in pain. The strongest, bravest and smartest of us need something to fall back on. The strongest, bravest and smartest of us can go for days without saying something because their head feels like a tornado. The strongest, bravest and smartest of us are human. 

Paralysis [puh-ral-uh-sis]: A state of helpless stoppage, inactivity or inability to act.



Love,
Sonshu


P.S: Lines in italics are quotes and are not mine.





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