Heartcoming: On Four Years of Pouls.of.art

There are some specific words I always have a hard time describing. “Nostalgia” is one of them. Even though it has been one of the most heavily used words in my vocabulary, it is only now that I find myself thinking about its origin. Turns out it’s yet another Greek offering, a neoclassical compound, consisting of nóstos, a Homeric word meaning “homecoming” and álgos, meaning “pain.” It’s kind of poetic how so many roads lead to Homer, especially when we are celebrating the newly released epic fantasy “ The Odyssey”, directed by Christopher Nolan.

The word was coined by a 17th century medical student to describe the anxieties displayed by Swiss mercenaries fighting away from home. The association of homecoming with pain is a familiar yet strange phenomenon. The more I think about it the more I can relate. It sure does fit the way I like to look back at Pouls.of.art over the last (almost) four years I’ve worked with the space. Not the ache of missing something lost but the warmth, the glow of realising how far an idea has travelled and how many people carried it there by adding something of their own.

Every organisation has a unique version of itself that only a small fraction of people remember, some with distinct details, some from the background and some from a distance. That includes the early days, before the systems, the handbooks, the office space, when things ran in enthusiasm and the belief that things will work out more than economic resources. It’s trusting the process even before the process trusts us. The founder, Poulomi Bose, started everything from scratch, literally in her bedroom, a space that could hold big dreams. It’s beautiful to think that that personal space eventually grew into a public presence with a designated office and job roles for a team of 19 members. Nostalgia has a way of making beginnings feel small and meaningful and inspiring in hindsight, although none of it was completely guaranteed.

It’s never the place, always the people who make it special. An organisation, too, is really built by people who show up, again and again, to turn a workplace into something warm and welcoming. Over the years, Pouls.of.art has had many dedicated, kindhearted and extremely brilliant people– interns, volunteers, associates, designers, pass through its doors. My choice of adjectives is very important because each one of those who have worked with us, has contributed something generous, an idea, a solution, sometimes a way of doing things, a memory that’s going to make us laugh or take pride in , for a long time.
This reminds me, have we ever gotten to know who the GST lady was?! It’s a secret we still have to uncover!

Those of our former colleagues and friends who have gone on to venture into newer adventures in life, nostalgia makes sure to remind us that it doesn’t need someone in the room for their presence to be felt. We carry each other's stories, support and compliments. The workshops they designed, helped us with, the traditions they started, the inside jokes, everything is going to outlive us, those who shaped it first.

The people who helped turn a bedroom idea into a room full of names.

We have organised hundreds of workshops, hosted events including those in different cities like Jaipur, Mumbai, Chandigarh etc., launched merchandise, new office space, built a community through these years. Of course none of this happened overnight or in a linear manner. But it sure did happen with our hearts poured into the process. There were hard beginnings, messy moments, months that felt uncertain. But with the lens of nostalgia, the edges have been smoothed and the uncertainty looks more controllable than it actually was. Growth feels earned.

Which brings me back to nóstos, homecoming. But what is a home if not the heart that appreciates art?! Every time someone who’s moved on comes back to visit or messages the group chat about an old memory or shows up unexpectedly at an event, there’s a tiny heart-coming (as I’d like to call it) embedded in it. It’s a return to art, a feeling, a texture of what it was to share a vision together in that one particular season of the life of the organisation.

Nostalgia, then, we can say isn't really about longing for what's gone. It’s acknowledging the familiar pain of coming home, finding oneself in a space that might change during the time of separation and being grateful for it anyway. Four years on, Pouls.of.art doesn't look like it did when it started. It looks like everyone who ever walked through its doors, stayed a while, and left a little of themselves behind.

And if the story of any good journey is really the story of everyone who travelled it, then this one is far from over.