What began as an intriguing exercise to record my thoughts in a single line IN A SET TIME FRAME everyday turned into an experiment of the self that went on for 99 mornings.

Photographer Nancy Floyd’s book ‘Weathering Time’ where she collected nearly four decades of self portraits not only inspired me but pushed me to record the changes in self that slowly takes place. Unlike her beautiful photographs, I chose words to record myself limiting myself to a few lines/words every day between 8AM–11AM (most of the recordings are before 9AM).

The fact that the majority of the recording happened under the crucial strain of one of the worst periods of a pandemic makes it all the more relevant. The recording ranges from mundane few words to full blown philosophical ponderings—all recorded truthfully without a motive.

Reading those lines after 100 days helped me reflect on my growth, mental shifts and most importantly spirit that kept me afloat. Studying those lines further enabled me to reflect, objectively, on human nature in general, about things, vulnerability and personality tropes that I would have never, in daily routine, given much thought too.

Indeed, what began as an intriguing exercise to record my thoughts in a single line did challenge me on mornings when I had no interest in recording whatsoever but ultimately turned into a riveting project that I may repeat after months and/or years, reflecting more sincerely on the herculean changes that take place over that period of time.

1. A cloudy morning with a wave of festive air struggling to survive – the only incarnation of the festival, a red night suit.
2. Drowsiness and fatigue refuse to leave my duvet this morning.
3. After the torrents of last night, I wonder whether the clouds will subside today.
4. It rained all night; storm Bella, they say. Funny how we elude ourselves by the simple act of nomenclature.
5. How we long to return to the same old drab routine- only to run away from it soon!
6. Chilly mornings and a dark sky – my sole morning companions in a city I now call home.
7. Last evening, a wave of deaths and disease splashed across my screens. Today morning, I woke up with gratitude, thankful for being able to breathe without any form of external support.
8. Having breakfast in peace, alone is unarguably underrated, for when if not in solitude one stitches one’s own story.
9. A new year, a futile ritual for us lot for what is it that will change? Nothing. Spiraling down faster perhaps.
10. What a dream! Only if I could live it. My first thought the moment I begin shuffling in between my sheets, feeling the mistiness of the weekend air.
11. A laze Sunday morning.
12. It is not even 9 yet and I feel like I have been up for a lifetime now. Please let the sun shine today.
13. Another lockdown. Sometimes I amaze myself with my own strength and belief.
14. How petty and airheaded is the thought that women belong in the kitchen. How unsurprising that this thought never seems to go away.
15. Late thoughts- couldn’t get myself out of a whirlpool of self-doubt, couldn’t think.
16. Did yoga and not my usual workout. My own little way to bring calm to my mind.
17. My body feels as exhausted as my mind. My body will rest and maybe recover over the weekend. What about my constantly racing mind?!
18. My first thought on Sunday morning. Did orange the fruit was named first or was it the colour? Language. Perpetually enticing.
19. I got the anthology today. My poem and story. In flesh.
20. I will not let myself feel deterred by the constant setbacks.
21. I feel sick. Unmotivated.
22. Spilled porridge. Endless bags of groceries. A throbbing headache. What a way to start my day. And that rhymed.
23. Unusually calm.
24. Rainy Saturday morning. Waking up with an incomplete, unfinished, frustrating and yet lovely dream.
25. Slept with a slight fever. Still feeling the blues.
26. First project with my sister. Let us fly.
27. A good match last night. Early morning smiles.
28. Latin today. Yes. Part two. I can’t believe I am halfway through learning what has always enchanted me.
29. Period morning. US inauguration. So much to process.
30. A long emotional night. Miss you ma.
31. The joy of sleeping in on a weekend. It has been a long week indeed.
32. Snowy morning.
33. I will fight back the blues. I will fight back every last feeling of dread.
34. Its violence. All around us. What a sad example of a country it is. Shivers.
35. Cold winter mornings. Gloomy. So much to do and yet not an ounce of motivation.
36. Got up before the birds. 4:30. Sleeplessness creeping in.
37. Yoga morning. On somedays the week never seems to end and then you have to find reasons to endure.
38. Slept in this morning. Because literally slept at daybreak today. What a lazy way of interrupting the routine and breaking the monotony.
39. Easy like Sunday morning.
40. February 1. One month. Already past. As if things will change for me this month. The same struggle. The same battle. Another loss maybe.
41. Dredging in the monotony of the week. Right inside, contained within the walls.
42. After a heavy yesterday, I look at calming my spirits today.
43. When you are so immune to things being how you don’t want them to be, you just let them be.
44. Feeling a Zen like calm, I can no longer prioritize who and that barely acknowledges my existence.
45. Saturdays are meant for recharging and resting. Your mind, heart and body.
46. Sunday in bed. Snowy mornings and a sad email. Well, sad for me.
47. The beginning of the week. Bus. Clocking away.
48. I don’t know whether I want to do this exercise. What even is the point of recording your failures, disappointments every morning at the same time. It just reminds you of the lack.
49. I am unaware about the source of my renewed vigor in spite of all the swinging of the emotions that happened yesterday.
50. The exhaustion wraps itself. Chaos.
51. Feeling of calmness. A first for this week. Maybe it is the dawn of the weekend.
52. In the middle of a vortex and yet used to the storms.
53. Feeling so unlike Sunday mornings. Grumpy.
54. I guess work keeps me sane. Feeling energetic in spite of the busiest mornings.
55. What a confusing morning. Literally bloody. Plan all that you want, things will take their own course.
56. After last evening, I preferred a quiet morning and made it a point to not let it go astray. The seemliness of normality.
57. I cannot.
58. I endure. I smile. I don’t die.
59. Family. The one thing that hovers in spite of all and the one thing that you hate/love to be away from.
60. Sunday- the usual morning with the usual end, perhaps.
61. Mondays are for motivated return to the routine. Futile yet peculiar.
62. Another day. Another fight for survival. Good news like these brightens up the world.
63. Does the monotony help me? Maybe, to carry on but tires me out too.
64. In spite of the long sleepless nights, I work, I strive, I drive towards the unknown. It’s a new day with the same struggle.
65. The persistent nagging feeling of lethargy and tiredness. I hope the dawn of the weekend brings an end to this.
66. I wake up interrupting the constant flurry of dreams. Good-bad-worse, my dreams have almost always remained inexplicable.
67. It isn’t the usual Sunday morning. It is so cloudy inside in spite of the sun outside.
68. It will be a good week. At least I’ll pretend that it will be. Back to the biting cold.
69. A calm set upon me. A calmness that I have felt before but had completely forgotten existed.
70. Ma- the helpless feeling of being unable to share your pain.
71. [];/@#&74 Surgery day.
72. The silence after the storm. Or a stormy few moment.
73. Weekend. Cycling day. Finally! Cannot wait to experience the chilly breeze as I pedal away.
74. What a Sunday morning. Woke up early. Went cycling in the chill on vacant London roads.
75. The negativity, trash stereotypes, blatant egoism and blandness of our society never fails to astonish me, especially on mornings like these.
76. Trying to keep the promised state of calm intact.
77. Feeling stuck in a mindless hamster wheel. An existential moment, maybe?
78. Mornings with my coffee and porridge. A little sun would do wonders to this combination.
79. Almost weekend. Cannot wait to wait for the weekday again. What a cycle of ceaseless waiting. Maybe it’s the wait itself that pulls me.
80. Periods. Cramps.
81. The complacency of a routine Sunday. Farmer’s market. Errands. Comfort.
82. Even though routines and busy mornings tire me out, it is the fear of abruptness or unwanted unwelcome chance that keeps me craving and tied down to them.
83. A quiet morning to myself. Brimming with words this morning.
84. I collect myself every morning. This coffee is amazing.
85. There comes a point when even disappointments fail to disappoint. Today I am experiencing one such moment.
86. Mocha morning. As excited for the weekend as I would be for the weekday.
87. Lazy Saturday morning.
88. Woke up way too early on a Sunday. Utter restlessness.
89. Oh the solace of routine and the return to complaining about the routine.
90. Morning full of emotions. Too many. Exhaustion
91. Complacently tired. Mental exhaustion.
92. Arguing over breakfast over “art”. Interesting!
93. Beckoning the weekend. Time to rest.
94. Time to explore the nooks of the city. Excited, nervous and ready.
95. What a morning. Cycling against the wind. The sheer perseverance. The metaphor of my whole being for the past few months.
96. Hopeless return to the humdrum existence.
97. Some mornings you choose to be calm. In spite and despite. And today is one such fine mornings.
98. Oh it has been a tiresome morning! A sunny one though. How insane and capricious is human nature? You have clouds, you want the sun. you get the sun; you crave for clouds.
99. Experiencing the silent joy of persisting.