I was recently asked the question “What puts you in a state of deep focus or flow?”. The answer escaped out of my mouth before I could think – art. A lifelong doodler, my school notebooks and homework were often lined with sketched flowers and vines. Art has long been a grounding force in my life, evolving into a creative outlet woven into my daily routine and a ritual I love to share with friends. In true fashion, I spent much of the Banyan Impact Fellowship orientation doodling in the margins of my notes while listening to the sessions and absorbing the content, likely far more deeply than if I had been sitting still. On one of the last days of orientation, we had an embroidery workshop led by a Ukrainian artist, Mila, based in Delhi.
As I punched the needle back and forth while chatting with other fellows, I felt myself drifting into a familiar, calm flow. Though my final product was far from perfect, as we walked out of the session, I was eager to return to that tranquility. As orientation wrapped up and I left Delhi on my own, I felt the anxiety of the unknown slowly creep back. More than ever, I knew it would be essential to lean into the activities which steady me.
Going With the Flow in Bistupur
On one of my first days in Jamshedpur, I made it my mission to find art supplies to supplement my small, travel-sized collection. First on my list were embroidery materials to start a new project. Armed with my rusty Hindi and a photo of the cow I’d stitched during orientation, I ventured into Bistupur market. First, I stopped by a craft store, hoping I would be able to find all of the materials there. Instead I was kindly re-directed to a fabric store around the corner, where I hit the embroidery jackpot! The shopkeeper presented me with a thick binder of colorful embroidery samples with more variety than I had ever seen. Supplies in hand, I wandered back to my hotel feeling unexpectedly accomplished.
While navigating the stress and loneliness of settling into life in a new city, embroidering in the evenings sent me right back to that worry-free state of mind that I had first accessed during orientation. Before I knew it, a night by myself in the hotel flew by while stitching. I had watched several episodes of a show, caught up with another Fellow on the phone, and ultimately finished a little embroidered autorickshaw. A few days later, I returned to the same shop for more thread and showed off my little rickshaw stitching to the shopkeeper, who was very pleased.
Finding a New Art Home
During a previous stay in India, I learned to paint Warli, an indigenous art form from Maharashtra and Gujarat. I explored Warli’s history and cultural significance as my host mother in Pune taught me how to perfect the intricate strokes and uniform lines. My evenings with her are some of my most treasured memories, connecting and giggling over my mistakes and little victories of painting. Fast forward to present day in Jamshedpur, I’ve been craving that unique connection which grows from creating in community. After scouring the internet for “art classes in Jamshedpur”, I stumbled upon a small neighborhood art studio and quickly signed up for my first workshop.
After a tumultuous autorickshaw ride and getting lost on foot, a calm excitement washed over me as I stepped into a room full of warm, welcoming, and like-minded young artists. The founders explained to me that they envisioned the studio as a casual “third space” for young artists in the city, and they’ve engaged with hundreds of Jamshedpurians to build a blossoming collective. During the workshop, we printed designs on tote bags using pigment from fresh flowers.
Again, I became quickly immersed in that familiar feeling of concentration and stillness, even in a room of strangers (who were quickly becoming friends)! Despite having just wrapped up a tiring weekend of finalizing my housing arrangements and moving into a new apartment, I left the class feeling more energized than I have since my arrival to India. As I settle into life in Jamshedpur, I will continue to turn to art as my compass, helping me find direction and a sense of home when everything else feels new.
