Few people amidst my acquaintances know that I’ve written a few books, and even fewer know where to look for these. As Kolkata Book Fair 2022 takes place next year (finally again), one can find my last book at Kolikata Letterpress store.
A writer friend asked me something about my inspiration for writing and art work (as all my book covers and images inside are my own design/illustration) – “who’s your muse?”
Ha! That. I had to laugh.
One would imagine me having a perpetual seductive-enigmatic-and-handsome hottie soaking in my bathtub filled with rose water while smoking a cigar and drinking Hibiki from a crystal glass, as I sit there live sketching nude and writing.
Truth is, you are talking about me, a dysfunctional person with ADHD and a dyslexic mind, that buzzes with hundreds of thoughts that sometimes play-on like sirens in the middle of the night, shining disco lights revolve into reflections – I mix four different languages while expressing myself in situations where I feel nervous or under pressure – making people wonder if I am retarded or not. There’s a full orchestra of words, colours, and flavours in my work; truly depending on my state of being and immediate surrounding information I gather, it comes out in various forms. My muse – no matter how ego centric and narcissistic it might sound – is my brain. It’s a constant plethora of je ne sais pas quoi!
Perhaps this is it. My obsession to figure out my own thought process, this eccentric obsession that has overtime learnt to love the dysfunctional person I am rather than constantly be ashamed of it. Perhaps that is what inspires me to see the world differently and to be more (forgetting and) forgiving than hold a long term grudge.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 