I love my life in the city, but culture and a successful career (as much as I love my work) alone can’t keep my cup full. And until I can make my home closer to nature, I keep finding small ways of bringing nature closer to me. Growing up in a small city in India, it’s very common to see these nature-based everyday rituals and remedies finding their way into your life.

We must make a conscious effort to return to our essence, our source, even if it means brushing our teeth with the powder of the remains of a tree trunk from a bonfire. Incorporating some of these older traditions and some new self-discovered ones into my life is a way I stay connected to my home (and I mean Assam here), my past, my Indian heritage and mother earth.

These rituals also make you slow down because they won’t give you instant results, however, I personally feel like they are better for us in the long run.

I think a simple list is the best way to share this, so here are a few rituals that I personally find practical and not too inconvenient:

Warm water on waking: Drinking warm water first thing in the morning feels gentle and soothing for my nervous system and my organs.

Raw turmeric juice: Drinking a potent shot made from raw turmeric occasionally, about twice a week, can help the body manage everyday inflammation, support digestion and provide antioxidant compounds that protect cells. I feel like my skin glows and is 3 times brighter when I am able to commit to this.

Miswak: a natural teeth-cleaning twig traditionally made from the branches or roots of the Salvadora persica tree. Used for centuries across Muslim communities, including my ancestors, it removes plaque, reduces oral bacteria, supports healthy gums and freshens breath. I’ve recently incorporated it into my lifestyle as a way of feeling connected to my roots, using it about three times a week alongside fluoride toothpaste on the other days, since fluoride provides maximum protection against cavities.

Charcoal powder: I use it about once a week to brush my teeth and I always notice an instant brightening after using it, likely because it helps remove surface deposits and stains from foods and spices. Which I feel my toothpaste doesn’t really do. I am currently using a store bought mix of activated bamboo charcoal powder, neem, clove, peppermint, rock salt and Indian gooseberry powder. I take a little bit of the powder on my palm and use my wet toothbrush.

Salt water rinse & clove oil: On those occasional days when my gums feel irritated, my mouth feels a little off, there’s a minor ache or I’m just doing a full body reset, I like to do a warm salt-water rinse, followed by a touch of clove oil on the gums. It helps cleanse the mouth, soothe the gums and provide temporary relief from any minor discomfort.

Bringadi hair oil: This is a traditional Ayurvedic hair oil made with bhringraj/ false daisy (a medicinal super herb) and other herbal ingredients, often including hibiscus. It has been used for generations in South India as a nourishing hair treatment, and I’ve been using this oil ever since I started growing my hair back in 2019. I use it twice a week before washing my hair. I massage it into my scalp and work it through my hair, leave it on for an hour or two, then wash it out thoroughly with shampoo. I have tried many oils but I’ve noticed that this one leaves my hair feeling healthier and more nourished.

Coconut oil: is another hair-care ritual I use occasionally, applying it to my scalp and through my hair in the same way before washing. I like alternating it with Bringadi oil so my hair gets the benefits of different natural oils and nutrients rather than relying on just one. I also like adding a little bit (like 20%) of castor oil to my coconut oil for a richer mix. In winters, I warm the oils for better absorption and a more relaxing experience.

Hibiscus paste: Made by grinding fresh hibiscus flowers and leaves into a paste, and applying it to the scalp and hair, it helps nourish and condition the hair, leaving it feeling noticeably softer. It is also supposed to stimulate growth and help with dandruff. I only do it when I am in Assam because hibiscus is abundant there. You can mix coconut oil, aloe vera gel, yogurt or anything that you like really.

Rose water mist: is a gentle and refreshing botanical water with antioxidant and soothing properties, and it can provide some light hydration and help calm mildly irritated skin. I use it as a facial mist after cleansing, before my skincare. I don’t think it does anything as a toner but it has a softening effect on my skin.

Natural attars: are plant-based perfume oils traditionally distilled from flowers and other botanicals, and they have a deep cultural connection to my Muslim heritage. I love wearing them instead of synthetic perfumes because the different botanical scents feel more intimate and grounding, and they give me a small way of staying connected to my culture, my ancestors and also to nature. I’m especially drawn to flower-based attars - lotus, water lily and jasmine are among my favourites.

Plant based skincare & soaps: I try to choose skincare and soaps made primarily with plant-based ingredients, whether that means traditional Ayurvedic products from India or botanical formulations from smaller brands elsewhere. I’m particularly drawn to simple formulations without added fragrance, which feel gentler on my skin and make this everyday routine feel more connected to the natural world.

Incense: Made from aromatic woods, resins, herbs and flowers, incense holds a particularly strong place in Indian homes and rituals. Growing up, I saw it being used almost every day in my own home, and I still love burning it occasionally to fill my space with fragrance, elevate the atmosphere and create a sense of calm and stillness.

Seasonal eating: Eating according to the seasons, choosing fruits and vegetables that naturally grow and are harvested at different times of the year, is a simple way of staying connected to nature. Even while living in a small city apartment, it makes me feel aligned with the changing seasons and reminds me that I’m still a part of the complex and infinite cycles of nature.

Touching grass: Whenever I visit the gardens in any city, I find myself instinctively reaching for leaves and flowers, running my hands over tree bark, or taking off my shoes and walking barefoot for a while. I’m a very tactile person, and these small moments of touching, sitting under a tree and simply being close to the earth make me feel connected to nature.

Dry brushing: This involves brushing the skin with a dry, natural-bristle brush and is primarily a form of physical exfoliation. It removes dead skin cells, temporarily increases circulation, leaving the skin noticeably smoother and softer. It is traditionally performed in specific directions with the intention of supporting lymphatic flow/drainage. I do it about once a week ( maybe even thrice a week in winters) and find that it noticeably improves my skin texture. For the technique, I’d recommend looking up a proper demonstration, as the direction and pressure matter a lot. I’d suggest buying a brush with a detachable long handle so it’s easy to reach your back. And please only do it in your bathroom, we don’t always see it but we shed a lot of dead skin cells during this process.

Full-body oiling: massaging natural oil onto the skin, after dry-brushing and leaving it on for a couple of hours before a shower helps moisturise and soften the skin, supports the skin barrier and can make the skin feel smoother and more supple. I do it occasionally, usually once or twice a month, using virgin coconut oil.

Bucket baths: feel slower and more intentional to me than showering. Using only the water I need makes me more conscious of what I’m using, while the simple act of pouring water over myself creates a more present, intimate connection with the ritual of bathing.

Neem leaf bathing: Neem has naturally occurring antibacterial, antifungal and anti-inflammatory properties. Growing up, my mother would boil fresh neem leaves in water, and after showering I would pour the infused water slowly over my body and let it sit on my skin for a little while before drying off - a simple practice from childhood that I still continue today.

Also, this feels like the perfect opportunity to reveal my nighttime shower-in-the-dark ritual.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling stressed or simply need to calm my nervous system, I shower at night with all the lights turned off. I’ve always liked showering with a candle in the evenings - there’s something almost ancient about it - but with this particular ritual, I don’t even light a candle. I make sure I know where everything is beforehand and then I turn everything off and let the bathroom become completely dark.

I put on some music I like and slowly begin to wash myself. For this, I prefer the shower and not a bucket bath. Without any visual noise, all that remains is touch: the feeling of my hands on my skin, the soap, the water and this very simple act of cleansing myself.

As I’m showering, I try to imagine that I’m washing away all the things we collect simply as a part of living - what I like to think of as the cost of living.

Even when we don’t want to, we end up carrying so much dead, invisible weight on our shoulders, in our hearts and in our minds.

I use this little ritual as a way of letting some of that go. As the soap moves across my skin and the water washes it away, I imagine myself shedding, little by little, all that I’ve been carrying.

And when I emerge from the shower, I feel physically cleansed, but also spiritually lighter. Refreshed, quieter and a little more myself.

Somewhere between making a living, building a career and navigating the noise of modern city life, it’s easy to lose touch with the part of us that still belongs to the earth.

I think of my body as a floating garden, a piece of nature, drifting through the city - its streets, cafes and museums. But when I enter one of the gardens, I feel at home. I long for a life in nature, lived in devotion to learning the ways of the land. Tending to our orchard and our garden, making art with nature, nourishing our bodies with all things colorful and fresh. But I know it will take time, and until then I will find ways to keep reminding myself of my one true home, and let myself be pulled towards its nourishing embrace.

There has always been a harmony between human beings and nature, one that existed long before we began to see ourselves as separate from it.

And these rituals are a small way of keeping that ancient song alive, even in the middle of the city.

Sending you lots of love, wherever you are

imdad x

I used to feel like I had a very clear idea of who I am and who I am meant to become, but lately it feels like I’m losing my grasp on any and all ideas of what the shape of my being is.

And it doesn’t frustrate or worry me. To be honest, it brings me some kind of peace, in a weird way. I feel free, not having to decide anything. We start performing or trying to define ourselves only when we place our consciousness on being perceived. But if there’s no one watching, we don’t have to be anyone but ourselves. We can allow ourselves to simply exist.

We are beings that are meant to grow, and anything that is in the process of growing cannot simultaneously be in a state of absoluteness.

I am rotting and I am blossoming at the same time.

Contradictions are at the heart of being human and we will always find ourselves navigating the in betweens.

Lately, I have been feeling emptiness, like a seed, growing inside my life. People and things falling away like leaves from a tree, making space for more emptiness. The more I grow, the emptier my life gets. My initial reaction was anxiety and loneliness but over time, I have grown to love all this space around me.

Imagine this, there’s a lush forest and at the heart of it, I have created a soft clearing and I lay in the middle of it. Peaceful and grateful.

To receive anything, I have to first empty my hands.

I feel like my edges are getting softer and my being has become more porous. I feel life flowing into my being, and I see myself, my essence, reflected in things around me - in flowers and in rocks, clouds and strangers, and it brings me a lot of joy.

I see myself everywhere.

You know how in school, we read about these very unique creatures. Like the one organism with a single cell. And maybe there was one that has no boundaries? Because that’s how I feel.

And that’s so interesting to me, because I also read somewhere that, on a cellular level, we are vibrating - our cells are vibrating - and they are interacting with the environment around us. We are far more porous than we imagine. This body is not as solid and as rigid as it seems to us. We’re not packed inside this enclosure.

We are flowing into the world and the world is flowing into us.

And I think it’s so beautiful.

It makes me love myself and love life even more. It makes me want to live more and become one with the world and with life. I want to eat all the fruits this summer, make the lamp that I cannot find anywhere, rewatch my favourite movies and keep sharing all of the beauty that I have gathered. All this while not being able to answer who or what I am. Do you see how silly it seems to try and contain ourselves in words when we are home to the infinite vastness of the Universe.

Once there’s nothing left to hold onto, perhaps we will finally have room to become everything.

I can spend the rest of my life not trying to find an answer to who I am

and simply focus on living my one wild and precious life.

Happy Valentine’s day!

I love love; It is always on my mind and in my being. I see life itself as evidence of love - in a fruit split open, in the overwhelming generosity of the Earth, in the Sun shining inside someone’s eyes. But around this time of year, like everyone else, i find myself thinking of romantic love. And to me, a kiss is the most romantic and the deepest form of physical intimacy two people can share; it’s a moment of surrender, of opening, of giving and receiving, all at once.

A kiss feels like a language of its own. So much is being said without words, the body speaking, the soul revealing itself, desire and tenderness rising to the surface. Two inner worlds colliding. All that longing, all that softness, all that fire, gathered into a single moment of rupture.

I wanted to curate a small visual archive of the most sensual, tender and passionate kisses across time and mediums - photographs, sculptures, films - kisses that have shaped culture, or lingered in our collective memory.

The list is (almost) chronological, which makes it interesting to observe how the depiction of a kiss has evolved over time. And yet, beneath changing aesthetics and eras, the gesture remains the same. I think it’s so beautiful that in love, longing and in the way we come together, we are far more alike than we are different.

The universality of a kiss reveals, that love, is our essence.

Lovingly yours,
imdad x

Rituals might conjure images of elaborate ceremonies that we have grown up witnessing, whether religious, cultural or born out of superstition. The rituals i am talking about, however, are rooted in the person and help us plant ourselves within the vast tapestry of life.

Lately, i’ve been circling back to the idea of rituals as something innate and necessary, now more than ever. Something that feels increasingly important in a world that asks us to be endlessly productive, endlessly new.

Rituals, at their core, are about repetition, rhythm and familiarity. They are the opposite of novelty, which makes them so revolutionary right now.

In repeating the same acts - of drinking our morning tea from the same cup every day, buying the same planner/notebook every year, sitting at the same table in our favourite restaurant, applying the same moisturiser year after year - we create a sense of continuity.

We develop a language of our soul that bleeds into the physical world. This feeling of self now stretches beyond our being and across days, months, even generations.

Finding comfort in, and choosing, the same things repeatedly has, in many ways, simplified my life. I mostly buy things to replace what has already served its time. Over the years, i’ve tried to be spontaneous with shopping, browsing online or visiting malls, but it doesn’t work for me.

I usually begin with a very clear vision of what i want, often informed by films or Pinterest. Once i know that i need a baby-pink, sheer, ribbed, full-sleeved, turtleneck, i find myself consciously and subconsciously searching only for that.

It almost feels like i prefer a uniform-style system across all aspects of my life; from clothing to jewellery, skincare, home decor, bed linen, groceries and even the detergent i use. Instead of feeling restrictive, this kind of repetition feels liberating to me. It removes excess choice and decision-making, leaving more space for me to live a peaceful life.

Rituals remind me that i have the agency to shape my own, unique, specific, peculiar, romantic relationship with the world.

What i find especially powerful is how rituals move between the personal and the communal. Personal rituals help me relate with the world in my own way while also helping me return to myself, especially when it’s so easy to feel scattered and overstimulated. The communal ones place me inside something larger, reminding me that my life is part of a longer, wider story.

What i love most about Indian culture is that most of our rituals are rooted in nature. We greet the sun in the morning, we worship rivers as living entities, we tie our festivals to lunar cycles, harvests, monsoons. In Assam, there is a traditional ritual called ‘Tuloni Biya’ (translating to small wedding) where a girl is symbolically married to a banana tree when she reaches puberty, it’s a ceremonial way of celebrating her first menstruation, marking her transition into womanhood.

Even our body becomes a site where nature and ritual meet; turmeric is used both for external beauty and inner healing, flowers are worn for adorning the self and also used as offerings to the Gods. These practices blur the line between care and worship.

Rituals stemming from beauty, festivals or prayer - applying henna, mothers oiling their children’s hair, making the same sweets for Eid every year, decorating the home with marigolds or mango leaves, fasting and feasting - all of it exists on the same continuum. There’s a seamless integration of the sacred and the mundane and i find it deeply grounding and inspiring.

Many of us find ourselves living in cities in pursuit of our dreams, sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity. In city life, rituals can become our anchors. When everything around us is optimized for movement, rituals insist on stillness. They ask us to be present in our bodies, in our senses and in the moment we are inhabiting.

They bring us to the here and now.

I also want to demystify the idea that rituals are about self-improvement. They exist to texture our lives, to add layers of meaning, memory and attention to things that might otherwise go unnoticed.

Rituals make us richer, not better.

There is also something deeply comforting about the way rituals connect us to our ancestors. When i borrow, and then repeat certain practices, i’m aware that i am not the first to do so. It’s natural for a ritual to evolve or transform as it journeys through time, but the act itself carries memory. It becomes a way of staying in conversation with those who came before us.

I try to weave some of these ancestral practices into my everyday life, small things like brushing my teeth with a miswak stick or charcoal. I still don’t clip my nails after sunset, even though there’s no scientific explanation for it. This letter naturally leads into the next, where i’ll be sharing a list of the rituals my family and i practice, especially those rooted in our connection to nature.

For me, my everyday rituals are windows into presence. When i slow down and stop rushing through things, i begin to meet them with attention. I remember that i am not behind and there’s no race.

Over time, these small, repeated gestures create a sense of steadiness. My cup feels full and also calm. These rituals offer a way of staying close to myself; they help me remember who i am beneath the noise and movement of the world.

I think this is what resistance looks like now.

Choosing slowness, tenderness and nowness.

Choosing to return, to ourselves and to the same humble acts,

again and again and again.

I reach for my phone, the first thing in the morning, without thinking, like it’s a part of me. Before bed. While eating and in the in-between moments.

This newsletter is more than a confession of my addiction though, it’s also about me grieving the loss of an intimacy with my mind and how i am trying to get it back.

Even after over 10 years of sharing my work online, it still doesn’t feel natural to me. I try to use the fact that social media is my work place to make peace with the guilt. And yet, both my work and who i am are rooted in presence and intention, in savouring the small moments that make up life.

This tension is especially complicated when my livelihood depends on visibility. Creation is one half of my work, the other half is the sharing. About offering what i see to others. That part requires me to be persistently online, participating in a system that will do anything to exploit their users. I feel helpless, and often hopeless but i dream of a future, for me personally, where i am away from all of this.

The changes in our media landscape and especially the introduction of the all-seeing, all-knowing algorithm, have made it almost impossible to stay off our phones and remain fully present in the physical world.

Trying to speak about slowness inside a system that feeds on attention and rewards loudness leaves very little room for silence or depth. The current algorithm rewards speed, repetition, sameness. A flattening of the self.

The more you resist, the more you are punished. So you begin to wonder if you need to change in order to survive.

Remember when the internet used to be an escape from reality? Now it feels like we are all trapped here. There seems to be no way out, and what’s most unsettling is how we’ve normalized this.

I would go as far as to say that our lives are being stolen from us. Our bodies remain in the physical world, but our beings - our minds, our souls - are not fully here. The intangible parts of our being are held hostage by greed-driven corporations that have little interest in our well-being or the planet’s.

Every few months, i go offline (off- social media). In fact, i am currently on a break. Usually for at least two weeks. Sometimes longer. After a long break, i often don’t want to come back at all, but i do. Because i must.

The break helps nevertheless. Every time i come back, i feel lighter. Clearer. I come back feeling like i have more control, but it only lasts a while. It’s very easy to slip straight back into the same patterns.

And i am grieving this way of being. My grief is for a different kind of mind. A different quality of attention.

A lightness of being that i miss dearly.

Over time, i’ve made a few rules for myself. Some small, repeatable practices that help me reduce my phone time.

Here are some of them:

• All notifications are turned off on my phone. I open apps consciously and choose what information i allow into my mind.

• I keep the phone visually boring. No tempting apps. A simple wallpaper. Empty home screen. I download specific apps (shopping for example) only when I need them, and delete them right after. No endless entry points basically.

• On Instagram, i try not to enter the reels tab or the explore page at all. I regularly snooze recommended posts, so my home feed feels like a curation of work from accounts i’ve chosen to follow.

• I sometimes use third party apps to set timers or lock certain apps.

• If I’m with someone, the phone stays in my bag. I am with that person, fully, and i request them to do the same.

• I choose phone calls with friends who live far away, real conversations over sending reels. While interacting over social media can feel like connection, it rarely deepens anything. It creates the illusion of closeness without the intimacy.

• I try to avoid using my phone before noon. The first part of the day belongs to my own thoughts. The silence helps me settle into my body and my pace.

• At night, the phone stays away from my bed or the nightstand. Evenings are for reading, writing, calling my family, staring at the ceiling, watching a good movie. Mornings feel different when there’s nothing to grab for immediately. I feel….free.

• I have a charging/parking station for my phone that’s slightly inconvenient. It’s not within arm’s reach of where i sit or lie down. The distance helps immensely in breaking the reflex of reaching for it.

• I have ordered a physical alarm clock. I don’t want to be woken up by my phone anymore.

• I regularly go completely offline. I delete apps entirely and can feel my brain rewire itself. It’s uncomfortable at first, then life feels so good that i don’t want to be back. I notice myself noticing things again.

• I have been fantasizing about the idea of using a dumb phone but haven’t yet figured out the logistics of how i would make it work. Will i need 2 sims or i just keep swapping the sim between phones.

• I notice my triggers. The small moments when my hand reaches for the phone - boredom, anxiety, loneliness -and i try to sit with the discomfort.

• I always start with my journals when i’m tapping into my thoughts and ideas, and only later type them out. I try not to let my notes app have direct access to my mind.

• My meals are now phone-free. Eating to me feels sacred and im learning to treat it like a small prayer. In fact my dadi used to say that eating is the most scared thing we can do as humans.

• And when i can, i do the things i loved doing as a child. Tactile, heart opening, sensory activities. Like eating a fruit and letting the juice spill all over me, unapologetically.

• I let myself explore new interests fully. I allow curiosity to turn into obsession. Vietnamese food? I will try every place in Delhi until i find the best one.

• I remind myself, again and again, of the wonders of the real world. I step outside to pursue my earthly dreams: seeing a new flower, bathing in waterfalls, watching sun sparkles on water, exploring the chaotic but beautiful local markets in India.

*I don’t consider listening to music as being on my phone. I listen to it constantly, throughout the day, while i do other things, so i dont carry any guilt around this.

Lately, i’ve been thinking about how often it feels like im here but im not really here.
Why does silence feel so uncomfortable? Why do we have to watch something while eating? What are we escaping from really?

I know the world has always been changing. Technological disruption isn’t a new thing; cultural renewals are a part of life. I don’t know what the future holds, but we have to take care of ourselves while we learn how to live inside these changes.

I dream of a more harmonious integration of technology into our lives. Of loosening its grip just enough so the phone becomes a tool, and not the place where we slowly lose our lives.

This feels like one of those moments where attention becomes the dividing line. The world keeps getting louder and more demanding of our minds. Learning how to step away, even temporarily or imperfectly, changes our relationship with our lives.

We will be most alive and grounded when we can sit with ourselves. We must allow empty moments.

We must let ourselves be bored again.

We have to let boredom open into thought and into inspiration. Too much stimulus leaves very little room to hear our own voice.

I am someone who ritualizes the ordinary: treating a shower like a meeting with my body, a meal like a small meditation. Feeling the water on my skin, the scent of soap, the flavours of my meals. When we give these moments our full attention, life starts to feel textured again. Presence returns through these small acts of devotion to the everyday.

We have one life, and it’s fragile and brief. Being intentional with our attention and our energy gives us space to think clearly, to feel more connected with our bodies and to build relationships that feel real.

Being present will allow our thoughts to belong to us again and bring us back into a life that will actually feel like it’s ours.

As we step into this new year, i’m wishing you presence, joy, love and an abundance of all things that nourish your soul.

All my love,

imdad

*uncredited images are sourced via Pinterest.

i had always thought of myself as someone born to be devoted to another. I was a child full of longing and despair. One who always fantasised becoming someone’s bride. Because i thought someone was coming to save me.

Over time, i found a way to express myself through art, and along this journey, i learned to devote myself to life, to beauty and slowly, found a way back to my own heart. I realised that the only person who can save me is myself.

I turned 32 this month and this past year, i’ve been reflecting on what self-devotion looks like and what it means to ‘love myself’. My approach was very objective; i would pay attention to the way i move through life, trying to notice my actions that would prove that i do, in fact, love myself. Here are a few things i noted down:

-accepting that fluidity is closer to truth than permanence. I don’t know who or what i am, i never will and that is perfectly ok with me

-celebrating my soft heart and protecting the child in me who still seeks wonder, play and tenderness

-balancing my masculine and feminine energies. i used to think of myself as the moon and my past lovers as the sun but now, i want to be both. My first tattoo was the sun and the moon embracing

-prioritising internal alignment over external validation; as an artist sharing my work online, i have to remind myself, every day, to choose embodiment over performance

-learning that i will never be good enough for everyone. Even the future-me may not be 100% proud of the things i’m doing and saying today but that shouldn’t make me live in doubt or hold myself back from singing my song

-asking myself if something is honest instead of asking if it is good enough. How something feels > how it looks

-going for the things i desire without shame or guilt. I am unlearning the lie that desire = sin

-creating and offering choices to myself - saying no because i can. So much of who i am is who i am not

-learning that silence also carries an answer. It has helped me let go and walk away from so many things that were never meant for me

-being present in my body and opening myself to pleasure - giving myself permission to explore things, without needing them to mean anything

-constantly checking if im moving closer to or away from the vision that i have for my life. Returning to myself, when i feel off-track and showing myself grace in moments of weakness

My hand stained with red malabar spinach, a memory from childhood.

and

Dadi’s comb photographed after she passed away.

The hardcover book has 256 pages with images by 20 wonderful photographers.

Here’s the link:

You can purchase a copy here.

The launch is happening at Cahier Central in Paris on the 18th of June and I will be there to sign your prints.

If you’re in Paris, i hope to see you x

My soft heart is my greatest strength, but it also leaves me vulnerable to being hurt. Still, desire called — and this time, I chose to listen. I stepped out of my shell and into the world of Grindr, inevitably presenting my body as an object of desire, opening myself to proposals for exchanges of pleasure, but also to many different kinds of energies, most of which are neither kind nor considerate. It almost feels like stepping onto a battlefield.

I chose the word soft as my username to honor this sentiment and to, hopefully, attract those who would appreciate my softness.

Most messages here begin with albums containing pictures of their dicks. Just that. Sometimes there’s a single word of greeting. Or even just a single letter. H means Hello!

I tell them:

“Show me your face. I need to see your eyes, the hair on your chest. Your arms. Your thighs. Your waist.
I need to be able to imagine what it would feel like to lie next to you. How your eyes will graze across my body, how your hands will feel on my skin.”

I have a slide in my profile with bullet points — rules or guidelines — for messaging me, if they wish to receive a response. It’s my way of filtering out people who don’t align with my needs and values. When I joined the app, I was receiving an average of 150 messages per day. So I could anyway only respond to those who I was interested in.

My photos on Grindr are very basic. I actually share more sensual images of myself on Instagram. But this is intentional — a way of attracting people who are drawn not just to my body, but to my entire vibe. I do have a private album with more flirtatious images, which I only share with men who approach with kindness and curiosity.

I had joined Grindr in the past, but always found myself overwhelmed — by the sheer number of people ready to sleep with each other ‘right now’, and by the style of communication, which felt fast, transactional and very impersonal. I would try, nothing would happen, and within a week, I’d delete the app, telling myself: this is not for me.

But this time, something has shifted. The app hasn’t changed — the grid of torsos, blank profiles and one word messages is still the same — so maybe the shift is inside me. I’m more open to possibilities. I’ve let go of the need to control the outcome.

I’m no longer looking at my body through the lens of fear — that it is too tender, too sacred, to be shared. I think I’m finally able to separate my self from my body, and to explore what it means to share it. I want to expand into my own sensuality — to let it meet others, interact and respond. To see what becomes of my sensuality… and of me.

This experience has allowed me to be engulfed in moments of desire that are mutual, present and shared between two people. Desire is no longer a one-sided reaching.

I am watching desire grow — like a plant being watered by two — and it feels beautiful to be in those moments.

There have been moments when I am made to feel less than and it’s worth talking about that as well. This might feel like an exposé but I am really not interested in anything anyone else is doing unless it affects me.

There seem to be many men on Grindr who are straight and they are looking for females (?!). Because of how my body is and my feminine presentation, I attract a lot of these men. And they are just not nice to talk to. They are not upfront about being straight, call themselves tops, but won’t kiss you or caress you and only want to f*ck you. I always ask people what they like in bed and the things they wish to explore with me, their desires and boundaries. And when i am talking to these men, the fact that they are straight comes to light in just 2-3 messages.

A lot of these men make remarks on my facial hair, they tell me that I should shave it, or that i should cross-dress, etc. and these are not suggestions but more like demands. Of course, once the conversation reaches this point where i realise that we are not a match, i put an end to it. People say mean things, but i know that any insult hurled at me is actually a defense, a hidden wound. So i forgive them, forget about those experiences and move on.

When I come across someone who is on the same page as me, I call them to my home, so i have the comfort and emotional support of my own space, my bed. The playlist is mine. So while i am trying to expand my horizons, I am also making sure I feel safe to do so. That’s very important for you to have fun.

We begin with the awkward undressing and step into the shower, water binding us together in this moment of discovering each other’s body in a more non-sexual, cleansing, ritualistic setting.

We then come to bed. I remind them of my likes and boundaries, ask them about theirs and let things unfold from there.

All my experiences have been so different. One started critiquing my art, because he saw them lying around in my room. It was interesting to listen to his perspective.

I did a 5 minute guided meditation with one guy, in the middle of our make-out session. He gave me a hair pin from Tibet before he left. That was truly a surprise and so sweet.

One gets hungry quite often so now I have to order food and stock in advance. He likes fruits so that’s nice. We eat and savour fruits together after our love making.

While most experiences have been great so far, I want to share my best and my worst experience.

Let’s start with the worst. I met this man and the very first thing I told him, like I tell everyone, is “no hickeys”. We spend some amazing time together, he leaves. The morning after when I look at the mirror, my body is covered with hickeys. One of them was so bad, i thought my skin will break and bleed if i touch it. I actually had no idea that him kissing/licking my body will give me hickeys since I have never had them before.

I felt so violated, because it was without my consent. And I think he knew what he was doing. This made me very upset, I felt alienated from my own body and I cried a lot. I messaged him to let him know that I wasn’t happy with this, but he insisted that the hickeys are ‘good’. He said that twice. I blocked him.

An experience that surprised me, an encounter of unexpected tenderness that just left me thinking — how can two people who are not in love, two people who are absolute strangers to be precise — make such sweet love and connect on this level of profound intimacy, our frequencies aligning ever so perfectly.

I really was a believer that sex is special only when you love the person. Which is why until now, I had had sex with just one person and that was my lover from the past. I don’t believe that anymore.

I think two complete strangers can in fact understand each other’s bodies and dare i say, even desires of the heart, intuitively. But it’s so rare and I am so lucky to have experienced this with a man. And then with another.

It subtly undoes the idea that sex must be transactional or emotionally void outside of love — instead, it shows how presence, care and synchronicity can happen between strangers.

I began this whole journey with the intention of having ‘meaningless sex’, and I am left wondering if anything ever really is ‘meaningless’.

I don’t know what all of this means yet. I don’t want to draw any conclusions about whether or not casual intimacy is good or if it’s for everyone.

But I do know that for me, personally, it has helped me in overcoming my fears, standing up for myself, setting boundaries and saying yes to pleasure while staying soft in a ruthless place like Grindr.

Dearest D,

I hope you’re living the life you once dreamed of. I hope your heart has found peace.

It’s been a couple of years now - maybe more - that I’ve been quietly carrying the weight of this letter inside me, waiting until I had the right words. I don’t want to let silence be the final word between us. I want to leave this letter like a flower on a grave - not mourning, but honouring us.

I want to begin by saying this:
If you have ever - and I know you have - wondered if I truly loved you when we were together,
when I was in your arms and we dreamed of our future,
know that I did.
I did love you, with all my broken pieces.
And a part of me still does.

In some parallel universe, we are together - hopefully doing all the things we once dreamed of.

I know you’ve been seeking closure.
And I also know that I cannot give you that - only you can.
Still, my intention behind writing this letter is to let you know that I cherish what we had - all of it - and I don’t regret anything.
And I hope that is enough, because that is all we have.

I want to apologise for making you feel like it was you who could have made ‘us’ work, or that it was your fault we had to end.
It wasn’t your fault.
It wasn’t anyone’s.
I am sorry.

I’ve carried a lot of guilt from our time together - for not being able to love you like you needed me to.
Being the one who had to end our relationship hasn’t been easy on me.
But it had to end, because we were already hurt - and without meaning to, we were hurting each other.

Love wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

We were young, both carrying pain from wounds we didn’t yet have names for.
Looking back, I see clearly how the ways we had learned to love - and be loved - triggered each other, how they brought out the worst in us (even if only sometimes).
And it wasn’t our fault.
We didn’t yet have the maturity to understand ourselves - let alone hold and love the other with the depth they deserved.

I needed emotional stability and reassurance to heal old wounds,
but you couldn’t give me that - you hadn’t seen or received that kind of love yourself.
And I couldn’t pour unconditional love into you, because my own cup wasn’t even half full.

Still, we tried.
With everything we had, we tried.

You taught me to see myself with kinder eyes.
Before meeting you, I believed beauty came from external things - my clothes, my shoes.
I know you were first drawn to how I looked on the outside,
but what you didn’t know was how ugly I felt on the inside.

I didn’t believe I had any beauty that was truly mine, that came from within.
But you made me see it.
Seeing myself through your eyes made me begin to fall in love with myself.

Even now, I carry traces of what we shared - in the way I love, in the way I listen, in the way I hold myself and others with a little more care.
You taught me how to be seen. You reminded me that I was worthy of softness.
You gave me love at a time I didn’t believe I could be loved.

And even though it couldn’t last, I know it was real.

We mattered. Even if we ended.

I haven’t opened my heart to another man since you, and I often wonder if anyone will ever see me the way you did.

Thank you for giving me that - for showing me a version of love that, while imperfect, brought me closer to myself. You were a part of my becoming, and I will always be grateful for that.
Truly.

I wish for you a life full of beauty, of peace, and of love that nourishes you in ways you didn’t know were possible.
I hope you find someone who sees you deeply, and who holds your heart with the tenderness it has always deserved.

Someone who meets your silences with understanding. And patience. Someone with whom love feels safe.

You have so much to give, and I hope you are met with a love that receives you fully and gives back just as much.

May the next chapter of your life be filled with the kind of love that doesn’t leave you questioning - only helps you become even more of who you are. You deserve nothing less.

Take care of your heart.

with love, always

imdad

1. To be alive is a blessing.

To feel the warmth of sunlight on our skin and to carry the weight of love in our hearts - life itself is the greatest gift.

2. We don’t arrive anywhere, there’s no destination.

Life is this never ending journey of being in a flux- of becoming and unbecoming. We are allowed to not be sure of who we are or where we are going, because we aren’t really going anywhere. We are already here.

3. We can become what we wish to see in the world.

The world we long for begins within us. If we crave kindness, we must embody it. If we seek love, we must first become it. The belonging we desire is often a home we can build for ourselves.

4. The passing of time can be bittersweet.

It can hurt but there’s so much beauty in the journey, and in how far we have come.

5. What we water, grows.

Our attention is like water, whatever we pour it into will flourish. We must be mindful of the thoughts we nurture and the energies we invite into our lives. What we focus on expands, shaping the landscape of our mind and heart.

6. Gratitude is the secret to a peaceful life.

We need to slow down, often, to remember that we are living the life we once dreamt of. Desire may never end, always pulling us forward, but gratitude brings balance - grounding us in the beauty of where we are, even as we reach for what’s next.

7. We are not meant to see and do everything.

Life may feel short with all that calls to us, but there is always enough time for what truly matters. And how beautiful it is - to carry a wishlist too long to ever be completed.

8. Deep connections are rare.

Not every bond is meant to be everlasting - some people enter our lives for only a season. But every connection, no matter how brief, holds its own meaning. We should cherish them all, for their presence becomes a part of our story.

9. Life moves in circles.

Much like the changing seasons, life’s patterns have a way of repeating themselves. We are often presented with similar situations in life, and our changed response is evidence of our growth.

10. The fleeting nature of life is what makes it precious.

We don’t need to rush or live like there's no tomorrow. When we savour each moment and root ourselves in the present, we weave a life of beauty and fulfilment, no matter its length.

11. We need not calculate the love we give and receive.

The Universe has its own way of keeping balance. Every bit of love we give finds its way back to us, often in forms we least expect. Our heart is not a container to store love - it is a river, meant to flow freely.

12. Nostalgia doesn’t have to be painful.

It can be a soft place to rest - a reminder of the love we’ve felt, the moments we've lived, and the beauty of having a past worth remembering.

13. We are here to experience the unfolding of our life, not control it.

Life doesn’t work out the way we envision but it is beautiful nevertheless, in all its unpredictability and volatility. Surrendering to the unknown can be the most difficult but also the most freeing thing we can do for ourselves.

14. Everything is a mirror.

When we love life, life loves us back. When we have love inside us, we see the love and kindness in others. When we are disconnected from our own love source, we find ourselves reacting to the lovelessness in others.

15. As we move toward our dreams, they begin to move toward us.

Dreams come true - not by magic, but by motion - when we take the first step toward making them real. Each step, no matter how small, pulls the dream closer to us. But we have to take those steps.

16. All the best things in life are for free.

The sun, the earth, water and the wind, the scent of flowers, a walk through a forest, a smile from a stranger, birdsongs, a simple compliment. The most precious gifts life offers come without a price.

17. Our body is our oldest home.

No matter how much the world changes, our body carries every version of us - from childhood to now - and deserves our tenderness and devotion. It is not all that we are, but it is our vessel, our living altar, our first offering to the world.

18. Love is the purpose of our life.

To give it, to receive it, to be it. It is what binds us to one another, the reason we are here and the quiet answer to every question.

19. Absolutes don’t exist.

Most things in life are in-betweens and we are only wasting our precious time and energy trying to understand and separate things between this or that, to place them between here or there.

20. We are whole, even in our becoming.

To exist, to simply be, is enough. There is nothing to earn to be worthy of love - no future self we need to grow into. We are not a work in progress, we are a quiet, unfolding completeness.

21. Comparison is a losing game.

It is like cooking with different ingredients and recipes but expecting the same dish. Each of our lives follows its own recipe - unique, unpredictable and entirely our own.

22. Every trigger is a doorway to ourselves.

Often, our judgment of others reveals unresolved wounds or hidden desires quietly resting in our subconscious. When we pay attention, what disturbs us can become a doorway - to healing and to seeing ourselves more clearly.

23. What is meant for us will find its way to us.

Life rarely unfolds how or when we expect, but every piece eventually falls into place. Life moves at its own rhythm, and all we can do is trust the universe and its timing.

24. Different isn’t bad, it’s just different.

We don’t need people or things to align with our expectations to embrace them. True acceptance of others, despite their differences, often reflects the self-acceptance we carry within ourselves.

25. It is never too late to start again.

Sometimes, stepping back to begin anew is braver than moving forward on a path that no longer feels right. Starting over isn’t failure - it’s choosing a direction that truly leads us where we want to be.

26. Everyday is all we have.

We shouldn’t wait for a special occasion to wear our favourite perfume or that summer shirt that makes us feel radiant. Life doesn’t unfold in grand moments, it passes us by day by day. Let’s make each one beautiful.

27. Our intuition is our best compass.

If something feels off, we should trust that feeling - it’s often a quiet warning. We need to follow what excites us, what makes our heart expand. The path lit by our own inner knowing is the one worth walking.

28. Becoming is often an act of unbecoming.

Finding out who we are is a process of unlearning who the world told us to be. It’s about peeling away the labels and expectations placed upon us - layer by layer - until we reach the quiet truth of who we still are at our core.

29. Rest is also progress.

Slowing down, pausing and doing nothing is not a step back — it’s often where healing and ideas quietly take root.

30. We can hold several truths at once.

We are layers of experiences, feelings and desires. We can carry courage and fear, hope and doubt - all at once. We are not one-dimensional; we are multitudes, ever-shifting, ever-expanding.

Hello my love,

White is a color that seems to immediately bring a sense of calm. Despite its ordinariness, it has many different associations in different cultures and yet speaks in a universal language of beginnings, endings and in-betweens.

In some places, white is a symbol of purity and renewal. In others, it is a color of mourning, a reminder of life’s cyclical nature. And in some, it is both. In India, it is worn in grief by the Hindus, while in Western traditions, it has adorned brides for centuries as a symbol of innocence. In Islam, we wear white both in moments of mourning and in celebration.

And then there’s the white dove - a bird that transcends cultures and continents, carrying a fragile yet powerful message of hope and peace. But how did this humble creature take on such a profound role in our collective psyche?

The story traces back to ancient mythology and scripture. In Noah’s tale, the dove brings an olive branch, a sign of life after the flood. Later, Picasso immortalized it in his iconic lithograph, solidifying the dove as a symbol of peace in the modern world.

In today’s digital age, that same dove has transcended its historical roots to become something far more personal and accessible: the dove emoji 🕊️.

I often wonder about the way we continue to reinvent symbols, breathing new life into them. It’s fascinating how the dove, a symbol as old as time itself, carries the legacy of the color white into contemporary, everyday interactions. It’s almost as if we’re using this emoji to reclaim something pure in the face of our increasingly chaotic world.

The dove emoji may not carry the weight of centuries of religious and cultural meaning, but it carries something just as powerful: our shared desire for hope and a better world.

As i reflect on this, i am thinking about how I wear only white in the summers. It feels like a quiet rebellion against the chaos of life. White grounds me in my inner softness, offers a space to pause and a reminder to embrace simplicity.

White helps me become a soft mirror. I don’t want to distract or take away, i only want to reflect the beauty of life, all around me.

I find myself drawn to white not as an absence of color, but as a presence of possibility. White is light, space and stillness. It’s the beginning of all things, and maybe, just maybe, it’s the color of hope because it invites us to imagine a world we’re yet to create.

I wanted to step into the new year with the lightness of white and I hope this inspires you to embrace and incorporate white in any shape and form into your life, and perhaps use the dove emoji more often :)

And with that, I’m going to leave you with my vision board for this year 🕊️

What does the color white mean to you? I’d love to know how it shows up in your life?

Lovingly yours,
imdad

I wanted to begin with sharing a little bit about my creative journey; My path to becoming an artist wasn’t a straightforward one. My father is a civil engineer and so i thought that’s what i wanted to become as well. I studied one year of civil engineering before realising it wasn’t for me and switched to architecture. During my college years, I began designing garments and curating my own fashion shows - picking up the camera only as a means of documentation.

Without artistic influences in my family or a clear path to follow, I taught myself everything along the way and paved my own way to becoming an independent and successful artist by following my heart. Over time, I’ve built a fulfilling life that balances personal and commercial work, collaborating with brands such as Hermès, Cartier, Chanel and Air France, while my work has been exhibited internationally and featured in leading global publications.

But I don’t see any of this as a true marker of success. To me, success is about moving through the world with an open heart, attuned to the frequency of love.

And love is the message at the heart of everything that i do.

I found my creative voice through this journey of seeing - but it evolved into something deeper - a way of understanding and of healing. The more I looked, the more I saw, and somewhere along the way, my camera became a bridge between the outer world and my inner one, guiding me back to my own heart.

and i now want to share with you, all the wonders hidden in our everyday.

From my heart to yours.

With this newsletter, I hope to share my thoughts and inspirations beyond the work I create, offering glimpses into moments, ideas and the simple wonders of life in all their messy, beautiful and interconnected ways.

Heart to Heart will arrive in your inbox once a month with fresh reflections, creative insights and visual inspiration. My letters to you will be a mix of:

• Reflections

• Inspiration

• Poems - by me and others

• Announcements

• Moodboards

• Spotlights on artists i love

• Special previews and insights into a creative life

• Journal prompts

• Behind the scenes

• Personal rituals

• City guides

• Book and movie recommendations

This is a place of love - a space for us to slow down and revel in everyday magic.

Thank you so much for being here on this journey with me.

Also, Happy Valentine’s Day! It feels so sweet to begin this journey of love today

Lovingly yours,
imdad