dibs on the window seat
A writer and photographer's honest journal from a Himalayan village — on creativity, identity, masculinity, books, and trying to live intentionally.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
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- Sep 25, 2026
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- Jul 18, 2026
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Mom, I Am Fine (opens the original)
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During the COVID pandemic, I created my best work. Times were tough, the pandemic had severely crippled me emotionally and mentally. Even to wake up to see the next day felt like a miracle. The air was heavy with grief. There was a feeling of collective loss and there was a huge collective loss indeed. As a photographer, locked up at home I didn’t create anything for several weeks. My association with photography was always in the outdoors. So, when the world shut down, I locked up my camera and
20 times I failed in my 20s (opens the original)
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I think it was on my 29th birthday when people started teasing me that I would turn 30 soon that the thought of writing a listicle struck me for the first time. I toyed around with multiple essay ideas.20 things I learnt in my 20s30 ideas I want to take forward in my 30s20 life lessons from my life in 20sand the likes….The past few weeks as I was speedily approaching the milestone of turning 30, these essay ideas would jump around in my mind every now and then. Memories from my life in 20s would
Writing in the Age of AI (opens the original)
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Few days back, I was tempted to ask my editor friend a question I had been thinking about for a couple of weeks - ‘How can I write better?’I read books. I write regularly. I publish routinely. What else can I do? Just before I entered the send button, I thought about the question once again.What does writing better even mean after all?I didn’t have a clear agenda in mind with respect to my question. I was not submitting my work to a client or a publication. Nor did I really need to write better.
I Don't Mind Being Performative About Reading (opens the original)
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I had one more night left before turning 30. I spent it on the Shatabdi Express, travelling from Dehradun to Delhi. At Saharanpur station, the train halted for 15 mins to reverse its direction and for the engine to attach itself from one end to the other. With the halt being long enough and my ass almost numb of sitting on that damned seat for the past few hours, I got off the train for a short walk.The anxious traveller I am, I wouldn’t dare venturing off too far so I walked parallel to the tra
50 Days of Blackout Poetry (opens the original)
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For the past 50 days, I have created and shared a blackout poem every day on my Substack. The funny story behind the streak is that it started out of an impulse. Across the months of May-June-July, I was opening Substack to an artist share his 100 day art streak. Earlier, I would scroll past his work but when the algorithm started showing him every day, I began to respect his consistency. I wondered how he even found the time to make art every day and that too for 100 days straight!With time, I
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