Noor Niamat Singh compiles a list of art prescriptions for those odd, unidentifiable but relatable feelings from six curators, authors and artists. With a thoughtfully chosen poem, a song, a movie, a recipe, a game and a book, these feelings find form and meaning.

Illustration by Parmita Mukherjee for Soup

Have you ever seen a child’s colouring book? Intricately-laced ribbons of black ink—controlled and predictable—seem to dull in the face of a child’s wild, crayon-powered expression. The pages are coloured in sometimes neatly, sometimes messily, and almost always outside the lines.

Feelings are the crayon scribbles of life, never working within the confines of what we know or want to be true. A nebulous feeling can pass you by and shake your whole world, turning you into a new person with every tremor. Even if you’re able to name and express what you felt, the words you choose sometimes can’t do justice to the whole range of sensations, associations, and implications the feeling holds locked inside of it. Sometimes, like the child’s scribbles, only art has the ability to translate a feeling.

From when we are children learning to wield a crayon to the day we hold our pens unsteadily, we are reminded of the mystery of life through the feelings that come to visit us.

We asked five artists and curators of different types to recommend a piece of art, be it a song or a leisurely meal, that would help us interpret, express, and digest some of these peculiar and particular feelings. These are art pills for the soul, something that words can’t always do justice to.

A Blister in Your Mouth That Your Tongue Keeps Going Back To

We asked Nishant Mittal, @digginginindia on Instagram, to recommend a song for this oddly pleasurable, bittersweet sensation. Nishant is an archivist of weird, wonderful, and non-mainstream Indian retro music. He recommends "Time Gave Me No Chance - The Cavaliers" (1967, India).

Speaking of this song, he says, “I chanced upon this record when I was living in Bangalore last year. This song makes me feel a certain kind of sadness that I haven't even experienced yet. It's such a simple and beautiful song, but has such a strong reminiscent theme.

The Cavaliers were a rock band from India in the late 60s and were one of the very few groups producing original compositions. This is one of my favourite finds on vinyl, and one that I keep going back to very often.”

FEELING A RUSH OF TENDERNESS TOWARDS A LOVED ONE WHO'S FALLEN ASLEEP AND IS AT THEIR MOST VULNERABLE, SOFT STATE

Anand Gandhi is an Indian filmmaker, entrepreneur, media producer, innovator, and systems researcher. He is also the founder/CEO of the Mumbai-based new media studio and systems think tank Memesys Culture Lab.

He was approached to recommend a movie that would pull at the heartstrings the same way this feeling does. With insight and poetic acuity, he chose Inside Llewyn Davis.

“Phantom Thread, Youth and Her are three films that have invoked profound tenderness in me, but the film that comes closest to this mood is Inside Llewyn Davis by the Coen Brothers,” he says. “Don't let the cynicism fool you, for behind the cold icy exterior is a warm, tender and vulnerable spirit - highlighted by the misty glow of a dreamy diffused light created by master cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel.”

“Deep tenderness, as an exact opposite of profound misanthropy, may not be the other end of a line, but of a circle–– if you go as far enough in recording disdainful human behaviour (from toxic love to capitalism) as Coen brothers do with this film, critique becomes eulogy. The film is a lament of all that couldn’t be, but isn’t the very purpose of such meditation to heal? Inside Llewyn Davis took me inside the mind of people who are so unlike me that I would have never imagined being capable of loving them.”

The Feeling of Falling From a Height That Comes Unexpectedly Through a Slowly Deepening Sleep

Matthew Daniels is a game aficionado who runs ‘Verandah,’ a restaurant in Goa, alongside his partner Meghana Srivastava. His analysis of the feeling was penetrating and incisive, and his game recommendation deliciously unusual.

His art pill for this slippery, murky feeling is the game Codenames—a two-team word association game.

“Pick a word, any word,” he writes. “‘Dog,’ say. We know what it means. But when we scratch the word’s surface we reveal multitudes, like Yashoda staring down the throat of a baby Krishna. It’s backward “god.” It’s a nagging verb. It’s a nickname for feet. Who let the proverbial dog out? The silken strands of association extend endlessly. “

“Once we acknowledge the slipperiness of our words, every claim becomes a minefield of hidden connotations. Behind every clause lurks an assassin — or an innocent bystander. That’s the terrain on which Codenames is played. Lay down 25 words and guide your teammate to choose the correct words, using only one word and one number as clues.

We aim, we fire deliberately, and the bullet goes wildly astray. What went wrong? How can we trust our neighbours when we can’t even trust ourselves? Our own words corrupted, we begin to see how conspiracy theories have become the currency of today’s news.”

THE PRICKLING FEELING OF MEETING SOMEONE MORE PRIVILEGED WHO SEEMS TO HAVE IT EASIER, WHILE YOU FEEL EXCLUDED OR ALIENATED

Her Instagram is a comforting quilt of well-plated everyday delicacies, distinct and evocative—so naturally, we knew she would understand the ingredients that go into different feelings. We talked to Archana Pidathala (@archana.pidathala on Instagram), food writer and author of the heartwarming book of recipes and reminiscences, Five Morsels of Love.

“Some weeks ago,” she said. “In a fit of (pandemic-induced) pique I started looking out for a larger place to rent, in the hope of having my own room to write. The ‘very accomplished’ landlady who showed us her place asked, ‘So, what do you do?’”

“When I told her I was a writer her eyes lit up and when I added I wrote about food, her interest evaporated as quickly as it arrived. I was in familiar territory. From literature festivals to family get-togethers to class reunions I am always made to feel like I could do better, more meaningful things with my life. Go back to that six-figure job? Perhaps try your hand at fiction? Dance? Politics?

“This poem is a salve to that sense of unease I feel at times for choosing a path that gives me joy. And a way to quell the voices that constantly tell me how to be.”

Archana, the Bangalore-based author who based her book on a Telugu-language cookbook written and published by her late grandmother, Nirmala G. Reddy, recommends a poem by Arundhati Subramaniam for this uneasy, stuck-between-two-places feeling.

You can read ‘Study Guide for To the Welsh Critic Who Doesn’t Find Me Identifiably Indian,’ here.

Feeling Increasingly Alienated by Your Family’s Extreme Political Beliefs, Despite Being Emotionally Close to Them

Champaca (@champacabooks on Instagram) is a beautiful, independent bookstore in Bangalore, India, with a children’s library and a café. Their online store ships across India. We approached Nirica Srinivasan, the bookseller at Champaca, for a recommendation that would encapsulate this feeling.

She recommended The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett.

In Nirica’s crisp, warm words, “it's a multi-generational, expansive novel, about two sisters, and the choices they make that affect them throughout their lives. It's a novel about identity and secrets, alienation and friendship, and the bonds that tie us together. I found it insightful and hopeful, and I hope other readers will find hope in it too!”

You can find a copy of the Vanishing Half here.

Entering a Shop and Feeling the AC in Full Blast Above You

Kaveri Ponnapa is a widely published independent writer on food, wine and heritage, based in Bengaluru. She’s also the founder of The Coorg Table, a blog that features authentic cuisine from Coorg, with recipes that are drawn from family memories and carefully researched local history. We approached her for a recipe that would embody this pleasant, expansive feeling.

She gifted us the refreshing recipe for Custard Apple Ice Cream. In her words, “a scoop of unsoftened custard apple ice cream straight from the freezer, cold enough to numb your senses with its first shock of iciness. Then melting into soft, spreading comfort and luxury.”

You can find the recipe here.

Art Pills for Six Peculiar Feelings

A Blister in Your Mouth That Your Tongue Keeps Going Back To﻿