I love that moment of discovery, when I’m walking down a street, see a mysterious entrance only to discover a niche vintage shop; or when I find a good song through a movie or vice-versa. The moments where life seems fortuitous, like it’ll always surprise you with beauty and meaning. Sometime in 2021, I remember shuffling through a random Spotify playlist only to stumble upon a song that I would play on repeat for years to come. I had decided to move back to Hyderabad, from New York, and was feeling a sense of trepidation; stemming from my fear that all the growth I’d had while living in the city would evaporate in old environments. I had found my voice in New York, I’d felt like I could stand apart from a crowd with my opinions, and yet never be lonely. Differences didn’t mean distance. My work reflected that, from making just pretty clothes, my work began to reflect my dissatisfactions and thoughts on the world around me. I wondered if I would be able to be as openly contradictory or critical when I moved back home. If I would be accepted, or if I would feel lonely?
It was this song, “Feet don’t fail me now” by Joy Crookes that made me feel heard in some ways. It felt like my fears weren't novel or unique to me. They were reflected throughout the South Asian community in some ways. In a culture that values conformity, how do we as artists find and nurture our voices while still trying to find community? Two years after moving back, I sometimes still ask myself this question.
