Purushu's award winning fashion blog was founded in 2009 while studying fashion design at NIFT New Delhi. At the age of 19, he wrote show reviews for FDCI's Designer Node dailies at India Fashion Week, New Delhi. Following a stint as menswear designer at Future Group (Lee Cooper), Mumbai in 2013, he relocated to Chennai where he continued blogging and authored fashion columns for The Hindu newspaper. In 2017, Purush Arie launched exclusive gender neutral fashion line. Purushu spoke about gender neutral revolution through fashion at TEDxChennai in March 2018.

Abstract Consciousness Interpreting Divinity

Psychedelic art, Hampi, "VIBE TRIBE", Mix Media | © Purushu Arie

“VIBE TRIBE”, Mix Media | © Purushu Arie

My thoughts are always tangled but for once, I feel uncluttered emotionally. It induces a state of warm contentment to type my first blog post of the New Year with a cleansed heart. That sentence won itself the award for the most clichéd introduction one could come up with but I couldn’t help myself from stating it especially when you’ve just recently deleted the temporary data filling up your space in form of unnecessary feelings. I owe my purist vibes to the vibrant & tranquil Hampi landscapes, than a particular date in calendar. The New Year vacation episode hit me like a hallucinogen and the trip hasn’t worn out yet, not any time soon. When I returned to Chennai, my paint brush found itself dipped in colours I’ve never used before. – Kaleidoscopic purples and pinks. My pictorial memory recollected that combination from a Barcelona FC jersey at a hippie cafe. A Bob Marley poster in vibrant greens and yellows stood out in a pool of other effervescent psychedelic artworks decorating the open air cafe which directly oversees a fifty meters tall seventh century rock cut temple across the river. Thatched roofs and bamboo fences dotting the narrow, happy hippy muddy lanes of Hampi land you in a near primitive self sustaining civilization devoid of phone or internet connectivity. The twilight dusked at halcyon hour from the sunset point, transmitting the mind to the closest it can get at transcending dimensions. The eerie silence at the vast airy hilltop was tastefully disturbed by the advent of chirruping birds. I blinked, breathed in and breathed out. The crimson sky kissed me. The massive rocks of Deccan plateau were blanketed in shadows of the winter dusk. The inexplicable rocky silhouettes formed erratic shapes hitting a psychological blankpoint. The eyes could see what you want to see. The mind could transcend time and space. The nature was fixating at that hour and the people around me, at their purest. Sunday, 1 January, read my phone powersaver screen.


Eighteen hours ago, at the stroke of midnight, a tribe of twenty something young professionals circled a campfire, dancing to yesteryear rock n roll hits. Some danced to remember, some danced to forget. Everyone wore a smile, each more mysterious than the other. Lost in thoughts, lost in time, lost in warmth of sizzling tangerine blaze, we pondered and tripped on the irresistible moment while planting the seeds of change. Negativity built up from the year that was razed in flares. Perceptions dispersed like a white light through prism, and the mind explored abstract consciousness while the flesh and bones cocooned in comfort. Those who sit by the fire shouldn’t complain about smoke. Gentle tears left a salty trail on my cheek and the lips subtly curled in satisfaction. I look forward to the day I’ll smile that way again. Portable speakers resonated the words, “Sugar man you’re the answer, That makes my questions disappear,” locking the sensory perceptions together, both micro and macro sense. My jaw dropped at the sight of infinite twinkling white spots illuminating the sky that appears to be painted in blacker than the blackest pigment. My complex thoughts echoed in the vast black space where zillion constellations floated in stillness. My own point of view reverberated to me from a tremendous, tremendous distance. That galactic glimpse was an intriguing paradisiacal ride. The Big Dipper or Saptarishi stood out among others. My sight wavered straight into the stars surrounding me by the fire. Lit in fiery orange light, faces wore vacant but deep expressions. A familiar face looked unfamiliar while an unfamiliar face looked familiar. They were people whose proximity wove a natural comfort zone. I already knew that I lived a moment I’ll relive for times to come. Those were treasured memories that will be told and retold.


Psychedelic art, Hampi, "DUAL NATURE OF FAMILIARITY & UNFAMILIARITY", Crayons on paper | © Purushu Arie

“DUAL NATURE OF FAMILIARITY & UNFAMILIARITY”, Crayons on paper | © Purushu Arie


Some nice, wise and experienced people have told me that twenty five is a very crucial juncture in our journeys. The foundation we lay at this time frame will go on to decide our fate in the coming decade. For most part of my adulthood, I’ve lived free from the burden of my own sense of scale. Isn’t life what happens to you while you’re busy making other survival plans? We spend years constructing myriad of complex personas… to protect something. But what are we protecting, who are we protecting it from? A persona mediates between the individual and the world he seeks to inhabit. On that night, I inhabited a magnificent world without the fears professed by the overwhelming power of my own psyche. I devoted myself to the confined but colossal world that my senses could take hold of. My skin was covered in leather jacket and harem pants but emotionally, I was naked and there wasn’t a microsecond when I felt vulnerable. I embraced the chilly misty night by adding more bamboo canes into the fire.


The charred wooden log smouldered by dawn, but the thoughts continued to burn bright. Thoughts resurrected with pragmatism and echoed alternative perceptions which appreciate hitherto overlooked phenomenon. My perceptions changed. I changed. But only I changed, while the fire continued to remain the same. The fire didn’t give a fuck about my perceptions. The fire wouldn’t distinguish between the ideas, identities and other values that transform a human into a person. The fire will continue to provide light irrespective of the ideas that shape who I am. Our ideas are inconsequential to the nature. The apple would still hit the earth even if you don’t have the knowledge of gravity. Mother earth has negligible attention to what religious faith you follow or what ritual you perform. Whether you pray or don’t, believe in god or not, a day will still constitute 24 hours, the sun will still continue to rise in East and bones will be eventually soiled in the process. Our beliefs are confined to the grasp of mankind. Ideas stem from our curiosity and self realization needs. Ideas are propagated to influence humans. Ideas are dictated to control humans. Ideas influence humanly actions. The fire could metamorphose the ideas I carried. And yet, I could in no way influence the actions of fire. David Bowie’s infamous phrase in the film The Prestige states that a man’s reach exceeds his grasp. It is also remarkable that a man’s reach also falls within what’s in his control. I try my best to avoid using somebody else’s words. However, sometimes a renowned expression or phrase comes handy in expressing yourself better. Ultimately, we’re all borrowing language that evolved socially with no single inventor taking the undisputed credit. Damn, I lost my train of thoughts there.


Psychedelic art, Hampi, "SUGARMAN, SAVANT & SAPTARISHI", Pencil on paper | © Purushu Arie

“SUGARMAN, SAVANT & SAPTARISHI”, Pencil on paper | © Purushu Arie


I wonder if spirituality itself is merely a state of emotional detox. I express the latter with metaphors like dimensions, vibrations and energies. The exact terms are often tagged with spirituality, in literal meaning though. What if the seed of religion was planted by a tripper like me? What if one dude randomly smoked pot and took pleasure in glorifying the fire in form of art and decided to dedicate songs? What if he chanted hymns and the society went on to define the act as “worship”? By the time pot wears off, the tripper would be like, “Damn… That escalated quickly. I was merely high & chilling dude. The fire (god) isn’t gonna come offering help in resolving your insignificant woes! Take a chill pill, bro.”


I am unsure if even the style of my writing has changed along with my perceptions. The subject must be unusually alien since all this fluff is a far cry from the regular jazzy fashion trends that I otherwise write about. But that’s what a blog is meant for in classic sense of the term – honest self expression. I have no audience in mind when I am writing this. I am talking to self. I love these fleeting ideas. I relentlessly seek answers and further question my answers to derive more fleeting ideas and I continue to do so. I am the creator, preserver and destroyer of my ideas. But these are just my ideas. My ideas don’t concern anybody other than myself. Whatever ideas keep you satisfied, you deserve to live with them. Nobody can take that away from you. You can’t take that away from anybody else. Live & let live. Spread happiness. Have a kickass year ahead. Happy New Year 2017.



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