Portfolio 2023

Hey guys, i am tanisha kharde, a communication design student; and this is my portfolio. please have a look, it will be very appreciated. 

https://www.behance.net/gallery/165746665/Communication-Design-Portfolio-2023

31st January 2023

i have realized i only come back to writing when i am sad. 

i made mistakes. i am aware. i know how to fix one of them, the second one i don’t even know what i did; but it seems like i have done something to have an ocean full of distance between two birds always squeaking around each other; flying together.

so much has changed in a year, last year i was so excited for my birthday to come, i was counting it down, i was searching for dresses from a month before. it was so surreal, and i was so happy. it felt like i had a family i could call my own, a found family. 

and that found family has such cracks in it now, i don’t know where to find the glue to fix them. i don’t know if i should even fix them or let it go. but i cannot feel like this everyday, i feel so gut wrenchingly sad when i see the change everyday in front of me. i think it would be better if i couldn’t see it everyday. 

i dont know, i just dont know. i feel lost and confused, and doubtful; about the future and myself and about my relationship with others; maybe even with myself.

8th April 2022

it has been two months since our first date. it still feels like yesterday though. it is very funny to remember us being very shy around each other. i want to write about every moment of that evening. i don’t want to forget about any little thing, of our first date. the small nuances of when i first saw you, of how my heart reacted when i saw your face after three years; how you captured my hand in yours, slowly, like a a delicate flower being plucked in the early mornings; of how your eyes followed me every time my face got flushed and i avoided your eyes. i want to remember all of this like the back of my hand. 

i reached early at the mall; as always the early bird. your text got to me the moment i was walking towards the entrance of the mall. that youll be late. and my overthinking started right at that moment. oh shit he’s going to ditch me; oh shit all of this was a prank. but when your 5 texts of sorries pinged my phone simultaeneosly, i thought maybe not; lets stop overthinking. 

our first date was at a bookstore, at my insistence. entering the bookstore calmed me down, but not enough so i started browsing the shelves of classics and found some kakfa. i tried to read but my mind was on you. every footstep i heard, my head turned around and observed whether the feet matched the face of the boy i last saw during boards exams. finally, after waiting for around 15 minutes and trying my hardest to get into reading the precious kafka; i saw you. you were wearing a white print shirt with some leaves on it. you were coming towards me when you saw me, i raised my hand to wave at you, and you did the same. you removed the mask and all i could do was look at you for a second. last i had seen you, you looked different, younger in a child like way. you used wear glasses back then, you didnt wear them that day. i remember i told you you look different, and you’d said something along the lines of how its been years since we last saw each other. after a beat, i remember you said that you’d thought i was shorter, but i laughed and said i was wearing heels. we talked about what i was reading and you asked me what the book was about. and while i was telling you the basic plot of how kafka personified the essence of losing himself with the help of an insect; i felt your hand hold mine. it wound tight, i could feel your eyes on mine, but i was shy, i just looked down and squeezed your hand back. we roamed the bookstore, you asked me what i expected you to read. that question filled my heart, the mere thought of you caring about what i thought you should read made me feel warm. i decided to buy metamorphosis by franz kafka, as we were going towards the counter, you offered to pay for the book. i don’t know why but somebody buying, or doing something for me always makes me flushed. because why are you doing that for me?  

when we talked to your sister later, you said something like the mask mandate is lifted no? i got the hint. i was still wearing the mask. you wanted to see me. so i laughed, and removed my mask; and yes, avoided your eyes. but in my peripheral vision, i could see your gaze linger on me for a few seconds longer. 

we went to this all you could get store after the bookstore to hang around. we roamed the aisles and talked about complete random stuff. we held hand in aisles where no one was present. it was addicting, holding your hand; connecting myself to you. peak romantic moment of my life till then, holding your hand.

we took a roundabout towards the food court after that. while we were deciding what to eat or drink, i came to know about your lactose intolerance. i added that fact in my brain where all the things about you are treasured, cherished, remembered. we decided to just drink juice, too nervous to eat anything. you wanted litchi juice but it wasnt available so you settled for your favorite; pineapple. during the entirety of time in the foodcourt, it was kind of awkward to carry conversations, not because we didnt know what to say; but because we were both shy. i stole some glances at you in the middle of the conversation you were having with your sister, i was liking you better every second. i could feel you looking at me too. it was cute. 

but soon, i had to go, the date had to end. so we walked down together and as the impending realisation of not knowing when we,ll be able to meet again came into my brain and i suddenly got a little brave; and held your hand. when we reached my vehicle, we stood around for ten more minutes, chit chatting about the littlest of things; both clearly not wanting the night to end. so i became braver for the second time that night, and hugged you. it wasnt a full hug, it was a side hug that my shy self dared to do. after we pulled apart though, i realised i hadnt wanted the hug to end, because honestly, i felt safe in your arms. 

but then i had to go. so i went home, taking the memories of the perfect first date back with me.

2- Mikko Harvey / 3- @beetlejuices / 4- Ocean Vuong / 5- Sarah Kay and Philip Kaye / 6- Franz von Stuck / 7- Cortes Edouard Leon

You know that Ada Limón poem where she’s like “i can’t help it i love the way men love”? my dad recently confessed to me that he became a shoemaker because they buried my grandma shoeless

oh…………………………………

green doors, green vines, green ghosts.

12th february 2022

i told you i believed that when someone is upset, you should give them options. options for consolation. first, you ask if talking about it would make them feel better, second, if they need a distraction; third, if they need some space. i told you i learnt this through of experience in wrong consolation techniques; or as my friend would say; your consolation is simply salt peppered on the wound. i’ve learnt to be better now though. ive learnt more. i ask you what would you need when you would be upset; you said you’d need to talk about it. there was silence after you answered. i had the answer to the same question in my mind prepared, space, id need space; i repeated. but you didn’t ask the same for me. in a bout of nervousness i spilled that id need space actually. you hmm’d and changed the subject.

you came back from work one night; frustrated. i asked you if something was wrong; you told me about some issues at work were troubling you. as usual; i remembered how i had to calm you down. because i had practiced; id created my own theory and i knew what worked for you; as did you. so i distracted you.

and you got distracted. from the whole thing we had between us.

we had a fight. i was upset. very upset, tears dropping down my face upset. and i wanted you to give me space, like my theory, like we had talked about. like i had wished you would. 

but you came barging in through the door and changed the topic of conversation; you ignored the tearstains, you ignored my boundaries. 

and that was when i realised, you only wanted to talk and talk and talk and shout.

but never listen. 

20th January 2022

you were like the bitter, powdery aftertaste of the medicine. you were sleepless nights and you were those insecurities. you were the sour experiences of my life. you were the blue sweatshirt i wore even though it was tattered to death; you were the distance and you were the cold. you were the hellhound that plagued my dreams. you were the one closer to the mold. but;

but;

as i gulp that medicine down, and drown out the complains over the bitter aftertaste; i realize. i realize i am my dreams. i am the vineyard growing over a grave. i am the shiny new rings i love to adorn. i am the happiest experiences of my life; and i am the sun. and i am the indulgent sweet i love to have after dinner. i am all the little things that make me content;

and;

you were just the bitter medicine i had to take to get my conscience back.

December 2021

vulnerability, homesickness and learning that my past feelings weren’t stupid or childish or anymore less than what they should be. i have always been a bit more into my feelings than others my age. not a cry baby but somebody who feels a bit too much. I have learnt that this is me and getting out of being myself will only lead to being an incomplete version of myself. i tell people i am happy, and it is not a lie. and i am surprised by the amount of happiness that moving to a new place got me. its happily surprising. i am happily surprised.

why is this me

how old were you when you first listened to zinda and pashmina by amit trivedi and how long did you spend having a breakdown consequently

9th sept, 2021

we had daal for dinner today. just daal, plain, boring daal. nothing more. in my culture, daal is eaten when you are sick. when your body is too warmed up, too congested, too tired to even think of cooking anything else. you eat daal.

so, it was quite disappointing when we had daal again that day, so after eating some dinner that was served in the dining hall; me and my friends set foot outside our hostel at nine in the dark night, to get ice cream. we ended up getting pastries instead. even though it wasn’t what we wanted, it was way better than sick food.

we ate them while discussing our exes; to be precise, their exes. i was silent when they talked about their experiences. a root of insecurity started to grow at that moment. but i ignored it; because when you bottle things up. it stays bottled up right?

they talked about their kisses, the warmth of their ex boyfriends. i could only talk about my best friends way of loving me. and how i regret i couldn’t tell him more. in a pastry influenced haze, we all texted our exes. mine lived in a different time zone, so i didn’t get a reply in an instant like them.

i saw them smile and giggle and sigh while texting. and i imagined, i hoped it would be the same for me.

he texted me at 1 at night. for him it was 10 in the night. after six texts, of how are you, how is university etc, he texted me goodnight. a bit abrupt, wasnt it? 

it made me unbearably upset at the moment. i was upset, i was jealous. i couldnt take it. so i hastily said goodbye too; and when the anger faded away; the bouts of sickness started to grow around my body.

maybe it was because i was the problem, i thought. it was my fault. i romanticise everything, and get nothing in return. how could i expect my unrequited love to know that i loved him, still?

the sickness of regret and guilt grew around my body, my body became too warm for my mind, i became sick. my heart grew tired. i wanted daal. i craved it.

i was sick.

september will be kind. september will be magical. september will bring the missing energy. september will be working towards our goals and self. september will be a month full of growth.

30th august 2021

you know those moments you see on television? where its a montage of a group of friends enjoying the most they have in their lives? and that happens completely by chance. you see that and you wish it for yourself; you wonder when you will experience the moments you will remember for the rest of your life and which will become a dinner time tale in your 30s.

for me, today was that day.

we decided in the morning that we will absolutely go sabarmati Riverfront this evening at least. we waited like little children until it 5 in the evening to get ready. i filled my tote bag with essentials like a child packing his bag for his first school picnic. excited, in a silly way. 

we set foot outside the hostel, and were welcomed with a few drops of rain. we persevered though, sought a rickshaw, bargained for 10 rupees less and sat. we had an umbrella! i assured. (the umbrella was tiny, rickety and tricky to use.)

our rickshaw stopped working in the middle of the road, when it started raining buckets, suddenly. a foreshadow of what the evening will look like. we laughed the rain off, got out of the rickshaw and tailed it across the traffic signal like a couple of laughing lunatics who look way to happy about getting wet in the rain.

at this moment, it felt magical. we felt like dancing in the rain, like the movies, and we somehow managed to find some shade and laugh some more. it felt like if we waited for 10 minutes, the rain will stop and we’ll finally go and sit by the river.

but nothing ever goes as planned. does it?

we waited for 15 minutes in total under the shade, with the tiny umbrella which had gotten entirely fucked due to the wind. but our will was still strong, we decided to walk it out till the riverfront in the pouring rain. as you could think, it didnt go well.

we got wet. like drenched head to toe. i was shielding my tote bag like a little kid because all our electronics, money etc was kept in it. the other two kept jumping into puddles, i felt like their mom. i couldnt help but laugh. we found some shade again and decided to have a discussion about what to do next.

but did we have the discussion like smart, sensible people would? of course not.

we clicked pictures, shot videos of rain, and of each other.

it was fun; incredible, show stopping, cherished memories kind of fun.

when we finally got a rickshaw after waiting for another 20 minutes, we had to beg the kind uncle who finally said yes to take us back to our hostel.

and guess what? the rain stopped pouring cats and dogs the second we reached our hostel. 

29th august 2021

have you ever been a fifth wheel? not on a date, just in a friend group? its a different kind of feeling; an indifference akeen to hurt. you wonder all evening, about what is wrong with you; you wonder about what you could do right; you wonder when you’ll become the way your friends are. social, easy to get along with, not awkward; not always thinking about how they want to get home and be alone. 

i have been feeling tired of being myself; im tired of fighting inside my brain everytime a new person comes to hang out or we change plans all of a sudden.

im tired and i feel lonely in a room full of people tonight. will this ever get better?

26th august 2021

i went grocery shopping today. i felt so independent; silly and foolish with my wallet half filled with cash. i felt like my nineteen year old self had made its way into adulthood just because i was free to make decisions at the grocery store. if i wanted to take hundreds of bags of chips, i could. its another matter of residual guilt of wasting my parents money. not so independent, after all.

i seemed to have had fallen in a cliche in that store in those fluroscent lights. i found a beautiful guy  while he was browsing through the chips aisle. he was wearing formals, office clothes. definitely not nineteen like me. we circled in the same area for a while, looked at each other. my heart jumped, i thought maybe this was what love at first sight was. but then he was gone from the store after checking out one chips packet; which took him 20 minutes to browse, the entirety of time i was there. but not before he looked at me again before leaving. maybe forever from my life. a thought ran through my mind, that maybe i had lost the love of my life; because as always i couldnt do anything more than look.

but then i came back to my dorms, did the calculations for todays spendings and wrote it in my notes app, like the ever careful, penny pincher i am; and i realised that i couldnt even remember what he looked like anymore. i just remembered what i felt.

and that i would fall in love like this millions of times more in my life.

— Sylvia Plath

Separation, you set fire in the heart and home of every lover.

From I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan, tr. by Eliza Griswold