A journal for ordinary creatives
Maru Mori
Sonal Varshneya’s etchings of aam jeevan
In Sonal Varshneya’s work, everyday moments surface as observations - drawn from memory, sometimes from habit, and at times from things that don’t quite go as expected. Each piece sits with a feeling, a pause, or a small contradiction within daily life.
In the wonderfully overwhelming visual arts showcases at IAF 2026, this one (below) stood out to me. I was drawn to it instantly. It made me think of many things at once - how we live with technology, what our pace without it would be, and how our sense of self is becoming one with it. I decided to reach out to the artist, Sonal Varshneya, for a conversation to understand her thoughts. This feature delves into my reflections on her art and her responses.
Not getting it right
“Everyone says wearing a sari is a normal thing to do, but for me it has always been tricky. I never quite get the pleats right, and more often than not, I end up wearing it upside down. This work comes from my memory of trying to learn through old books, YouTube, Google but still not getting it right. I find that especially ironic because in my parents’ conservative family, my grandmother believed in changing her sari after every use of the washroom.”
This came as a sweet surprise. I had assumed Sonal would be talking about technology at the centre of her story, but it was more about her sari - an obvious detail I had completely overlooked. I ended up focusing more on the distant confusion on the woman’s face, relating it to a sense of isolation because of technology, instead of seeing it as a way to find answers.
The attachment of touch
“I made this artwork when my daughter, who is now four, was two. She had a fever, and we didn’t want to give her medicines at night. We decided to wait till morning to take her to the doctor. All night, we kept putting patti on her, and kept touching her to check her temperature. In those moments, touch became a way of staying connected. It felt like we were absorbing each other’s feelings.”
This made me think of times when we are at a distance, when we cannot engage in physical contact with people we care about, and how it impacts our sense of warmth and connection - creating a virtual sense of presence which, no matter how real, still makes us long for touch.
SONAL VARSHNEYA, ETCHING, THE THERAPY OF WOMEN'S RIGHTS, 20X54 INCHES, 2026
We make our own neeyams
“In my family, there were certain norms, such as around menstruation - like not entering the kitchen or prayer room. My grandmother had her own way of following them, my mother had hers, and now I have mine. We make our own neeyams, and that shift reflects in my work.”
I find myself wondering about the shifts in our neeyams and ways of living. If I could create art like hers, what would it look like? And what would it carry?
Speaking with Sonal shifted how I saw her work. What I first read as distance and disconnection slowly revealed itself as something more intimate - about memory, care, and the ways we learn and unlearn. It makes me wonder how often we see only what we are looking for, and how much more sits underneath, waiting to be noticed.
Meet the artist
Sonal Varshneya’s work draws from her immediate surroundings and lived experiences. Her compositions move between the literal and the imagined, often reconstructing moments from memory. She consistently centres women in her work, guided by a personal belief in speaking from her own experience. Working primarily with printmaking, she follows a detailed process involving copper plates, etching, and building tonal variations through multiple prints. The featured collection was developed over a period of six months.
Interview and reflections by Stuti Sareen