The Lost Artist – Chapter 2 – Finding a Focus

Around three years ago, and a few months to count, I wrote the first chapter to this series. I know what you are thinking. I could certainly do with some consistency. Unfortunately, life isn’t too kind to a set schedule, and, as it happens, things fell by the wayside. Fast-forward to the present: I’m now a writer-artist hybrid working hard to find a balance between these two creative endeavors. That is where today’s narrative on focus comes in.

For a creative, time is an invaluable asset. Unfortunately, most of us don’t get the time we would like on our projects. This means you have to make some tough decisions. I’m the kind of guy who has multiple interests. In other words, I tend to take on too many things at once. This has been a recurring issue since the start of my creative journey, but I was finally able to resolve it over the extended break since the first chapter of this series.

The catch was to find a focus. Sounds easy, but it is not so simple. For an amateur artist, the smallest questions loom the largest. Like, where do I start? The answer can take you down a rabbit hole of diverse perspectives and destinations. The real trick to getting your journey started, I’ve found, is to tailor and focus questions within the lens of your needs. For a writer-artist hybrid like myself, this helped narrow down a lot of my interests.

From choosing a medium of choice to the fundamental skills related to a specific path, all of it can be identified if you tailor it to your goals and interests. The good news? There are many resources out there that can help with this.
The bad news? It takes time, just like any other creative process. If you can combine your inherent focus (guided by what interests you most) with patience, the answer comes a little quicker. Or, you can also take the scenic route: try everything out there and see which one lands.

In my case, this translated into action by exploring art that is already out there. It is akin to sending out a feeler to see what piques your curiosity and interest the most. I spent a few minutes every day just engaging with artists out there (across various platforms like YouTube, Pinterest, Udemy, DeviantArt) and learning the realities of the trade. Not only did this help identify the specific media that I wished to master, but it also helped identify the creative path I wished to take as a writer-artist: storyboarding. I’m now in the process of consolidating my artistic focus toward mastering the skills and tools of this trade.

Now, what worked for me may not necessarily work for everyone else. At the end of the day, I find that art is often guided by intuition, and the same could apply to our intent. Take what you like and set aside what you don’t, without overthinking or being too hard on yourself.

Here are a few resources to get your mind jogging:

(i) The Draftsmen – hosted by Stan Prokopenko and Marshall Vandruff, it covers studying masters, composition, and overcoming art fears. Also, make sure to check out Stan’s very own Proko.com, an invaluable online art education platform with high-quality tutorials on various topics, including drawing, painting, and anatomy.

(ii) The Virtual Instructor – one of my earliest influences, and whose website hosts a treasure trove of lectures and project-oriented tutorials that can pique your interests in various media.

(iii) Jazza Art – another of my early influences, Jazza is a phenomenal artist, but what really helped were his videos on finding inspiration and general advice on how to get your artistic journey started.

(iv) Aaron Blaise – a legend in the industry, Aaron’s site is a treasure trove of everything you would want to get from an actual expert.

And, when you get the time, follow along in my art journey at LockeInArt!

Colors of Inclusion

I spy, with my ‘kutty’ (little, in Tamil) eye, something that is… 

These are the words to a classic, interactive game. They are also the very same words I hear every day when I take my daughter to preschool. It is a solid 20-minute trip where we spy on the colors of the world, or at least that is the theme my daughter likes to stick with. 

And there are a variety of colors to catch in our neighborhood. There is the ever-blue sky, the wispy trails of white clouds, the grey roads filled with those darn potholes (a tradition of Calgary), the iridiscent blue-green of the screeching magpies, and many more.

Between the two of us, I find that my daughter has an eye for detail that I often miss. I guess that is the way with children, and on that point, they also tend to be quite straightforward with their questions. For us adults, long immersed in the seeming monotony of daily life, these questions can throw us off. 

That is exactly how I felt when, one day, my daughter said, “I spy, with my ‘kutty’ eye, something that is brown. Appa, it’s you!” So far, so good, but then she asked, “Appa, why are you brown?”

Taken aback by her question, I simply said, “Because I am.” 

Of course, as always, that response was not enough, and what followed was a series of “Why, Appa? Why?” 

By the time I had dropped her off, our conversation had meandered from catching the colors of our local neighborhood to discussing people of color, my daughter’s own complexion, and what it meant in today’s world. 

In a day and age when the world seems so monochrome in its ways, my daughter’s questions were like that blade of light caught on the edge of a broken glass, creating a piercing caustic. Growing up, I’ve lived the experience of standing on the sidelines, solely for being a person of color. I would never want that for anyone, including my own kid. 

An increasingly globalized world creates a reality in which various forms of difference often set the seeds for division. Of late, the latter’s effects have been more pronounced, with isolationism favored over inclusivity. My daughter’s simple question was a throwback to a discussion of survival methods in such a world, especially when she and I were on opposite ends of the complexion spectrum. 

Interestingly enough, being Indian helped in this context. I hail from a nation defined by diversity. Living away from home for much of my life only deepened my appreciation for my culture. Every now and then, I find myself opening a window into my culture’s past, learning something new, and sharing. This became one of those occasions.  

In an attempt to address my daughter’s questions about people of color and the evolution of diversity in modern times, I came across the Navagunjara. 

The archetype of a composite being, the Navagunjara, is a creature from Indian mythology (the Mahabharata) composed of various body parts and rendered in bright colors that each hold a specific meaning. 

Body PartSymbolism
Head of a roosterAwakening and vigilance, spiritual consciousness
Neck of a peacockBeauty, rhythm and divine elegance
Back of a bullSteadfastness, strength and dharma
Lion’s waistCourage, leadership and vitality
Trunk of an elephantWisdom, prosperity and memory
Tail of a serpentTransformation and cosmic energy
Human arm holding a lotusConsciousness, purity, and divine intent
Leg of a deerGrace, agility and innocence
Leg of a tigerPower, ferocity and protection
Reference: https://maavni.com/blogs/pattachitra/navagunjara-art-symbolism-odisha-culture

Carl Jung postulated that the universality of human experience is encoded in our stories. These stories have often been expressed through mythological symbols. The Navagunjara is that and more; it is a reflection of the human psyche. The creature’s whimsical anatomy is symbolic, with every disparate part forming a cohesive whole that represents unity in diversity.  My daughter’s reaction upon seeing the Navagunjara was a simple, “It’s beautiful.” She was drawn to its brightly contrasting hues, and the creature’s eccentric anatomy. The metaphor of inclusion was hard to miss, and there was my answer. 

Much like the Navagunjara, I explained to her, we were distinct in our own ways. From our physical appearances to even our personal beliefs, we were separated by a world of differences. But these differences were also our strengths. It spoke to the wholeness and balance we felt when we were together, all because we were different. Those differences challenged us and also provided the incentive to communicate. 

Of course, I had to simplify a lot of this so that my daughter could understand. As a simple example, I related to our differing preferences in ice cream flavors. This didn’t stop us from enjoying eating ice cream together. All that mattered was that we made the right order at the cashier so that we were equally satisfied, and to do that, we communicated. 

The Navagunjara is a metaphorical reminder that true beauty arises from a harmony that is rendered in our differences. It is a message of inclusion, compassion, empathy, sustainability, and global citizenship, in which our connectivity speaks to our greatest strength: solidarity in diversity.  

Or as my daughter put it, there is a lot of space for different colors in the world. 

Writer’s Corner – Navigating AI as a Writer

In the summer of 2022, I started hearing murmurs about OpenAI’s upcoming release of an AI-powered conversational chatbot that would presumably be a game-changer. There was a sense of dread in the writing industry, with some of my colleagues and friends bemoaning the potential impact of this technology on the field and their careers. Later that year, on November 30, 2022, OpenAI released the first iteration of ChatGPT. 

It has been nearly four years since. AI tools are now just about everywhere. From chatbots, coding assistants, and workflow automation to writing, image, and video generation, there is an AI tool out there to suit everyone’s needs. I’ve already crossed paths with Claude, ChatGPT, Gemini, Grok, Copilot, Perplexity, Grammarly, and many more. My take on all of it is similar to a popular character (who confronts the reality of his success, achieved through years of effort and hard work, becoming a poor and cheap imitation) from one of my favorite anime: 

I have followed the development of ChatGPT and other AI tools very closely and approached their use with great caution. Adaptation is part of the writer’s journey. It has also been a central characteristic of my personal journey regarding new technologies. Hailing from a small town in Madurai, I didn’t come across a compact disc until the early 2000s, when I had the opportunity to attend an international private school. There I was, packing floppy disks into my backpack while my friends were working with USB drives. A few megabytes were my data domain, while others were advancing to gigabytes and terabytes. This pattern of catching up and adapting to emergent tech has persisted throughout my life. It has been both a frustrating and a great learning experience. 

Being slower has helped me assess and adapt to new trends cautiously. Today, in my day-to-day life as a writer, I see AI (in its various forms) simply as a tool and an imperfect one at that. Take ChatGPT, for example, it is essentially a Large Language Model (LLM) in action. Chat is trained on vast amounts of data, including publicly available internet content, books, and articles. It recognizes patterns and generates text without directly storing any information. This approach entails a Pandora’s box of ethical challenges, including potential bias, inaccuracy, intellectual property concerns, and data privacy issues. Like its brethren, Chat is both beneficial and harmful, depending on its use and oversight. That last part can apply to any tool, in general. The funny thing is, none of this is new. It’s just that AI tools today bring a boatload of abilities that, at one point, weren’t possible. 

Remember this guy? 

Clippy was a primitive, rule-based AI (yup, you heard that right) that helped predict user needs and offer help on the go. You can call it a predecessor of sorts to modern generative AI. Clippy also used early machine-learning techniques to analyze user actions and offer suggestions. In a way, Clippy is the granddaddy of modern chatbots. 

Go back a little further, and you have this guy: 

The ’60s and ’90s had AI that followed hard-coded instructions. These AI programs could predict statistics and algorithms but couldn’t do anything more than what was already coded in. Here, we have Dr Sbaitso, an AI speech synthesis or text-to-speech operator program released in 1991.

As AI tools proliferate, they have sparked extensive discussion about privacy, mitigation, transparency, and more. Careers and fields are undergoing a transformative era where jobs and roles are being realigned and remade. The art of writing is also riding this wave of change. AI tools have improved and expanded accessibility and productivity for the average user. Where once you would hire the services of a working professional, say a graphic designer for a specific design task, AI tools make it easy for the uninitiated to be able to come up with something on their own. As such, some tout that AI has levelled the playing field, but I disagree. Rather, I find that AI has significantly elevated the ceiling for talent emergence and recognition.

In my line of work, AI tools have helped streamline parts of my writing pipeline that were tedious or lacking. Much of this doesn’t involve the actual writing. Rather, it mostly concerns the brainstorming and research phase of a given project. Googling things is easy enough, but sometimes there are nitty-gritty details that a basic Google query may not necessarily be effective for. Tools like ChatGPT/Gemini/Claude do make it easier to find what you need on the web, IF you know how to prompt them properly. This whole process is quite analogous to my reaction when Wikipedia first came out. The online encyclopedic database blew everyone’s mind. At the same time, it was imperative for users to remember that Wikipedia is a collaborative, open-editing platform. This means anyone with an internet connection can potentially alter content, creating opportunities for errors, vandalism, and bias, especially on controversial topics. Back then and to this day, I use Wikipedia as a decent starting point to gather information. I don’t take anything on its page at face value; instead, I cross-check with the provided bibliography or supplement my notes with further research.

AI tools are just the same for me. On the one hand, I use them to ease the brainstorming and research phase of my writing. This can involve finding an obscure passage related to a specific work or prompting the AI to provide working examples of a writing concept I may find confusing when a cursory search on my end does not yield what I want. It is a collaboration in which the AI tool serves as “sound board” of sorts, enhancing my efficiency while supporting my originality.  I do not let the tool dictate my writing. Rather, I let my writing dictate how I use the tool. This helps me maintain my authenticity, voice, and critical thinking. As a tool, AI is just another cog in my creative process. I remain the director. On the other hand, AI tools have helped me identify areas for improvement in my writing process. Grammarly, for one, has pushed me to further study and build on fundamentals, including grammar, style, and composition (in fact, it was my persistent mistakes in these departments that got me reading “The Elements of Style” by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White). 

Using an AI tool for coding doesn’t necessarily make me proficient in programming. The same logic applies to writing as well. One still has to learn the skills of the trade to have the basic know-how and to keep improving. AI tools for writing often seem like a shortcut, but an overreliance on them may potentially come at a loss of one’s personal voice, that most critical aspect of your writing that makes it original and, simply, you. AI tools geared toward writing are as much a means to enhancing your efficiency as they are in helping you identify weaknesses in your writing. Working and improving in those areas is on the writer.

At the end of the day, the actual writing is my very own personal journey, untouched by AI.

Fighting Demons and Overcoming Generational Trauma – K-Pop Demon Hunters Review

She can sing and dance; she has all the fans; she has two best buddies, a caring manager, and all the popularity one can desire. Still, behind her seemingly joyous disposition lies a subtle sadness that offers a window into her personal turmoil. This is Rumi from K-Pop Demon Hunters.

I know I’m a little late to the K-pop bandwagon, but I really didn’t expect this movie to hit me as deep as it did. Back in 2013, when Frozen was released, I remember the hysteria that followed suit. The songs from that movie were just about everywhere, and it got tiring pretty fast. BUT, after becoming a father and watching Frozen with my daughter, I could understand the hype. Still, I didn’t rate it very high on my list of animated movies. K-Pop Demon Hunters, though, is a whole different story.

I had the movie on my watchlist for quite some time. After my daughter kept mentioning Rumi frequently from her dayhome visits, I realized we might as well sit and watch the movie together. There I was on a Friday night, with a bowl of popcorn in my lap, getting ready to enjoy the movie with my family. An hour and a half later, my daughter gets ready for bed, and I’m sitting with a lump in my throat. The songs were great, and the animation was absolutely terrific. The comedy and gags (especially those hinting at a comical self-awareness of K-dramas) also landed really well. Most of all, the incorporation of cultural elements and a story that, while being simple and sweet, carried deeply profound messaging, hit hard.

Rumi, our protagonist, is part-demon and part-hunter. Rumi’s mentor, Celine, counsels Rumi on her mixed identity and maintains that it is a truth that must remain hidden until it can be “fixed.” Rumi keeps that secret, one which evolves into a generational trauma where one “must keep our fears and faults hidden”, and struggles with her fragmented identity while hiding it from her closest friends and Huntrix teammates, Mira and Zoey.

But, as we all know, the longer you keep such a secret, the heavier the burden. Rumi feels the weight of her identity come crashing down upon her once she meets her counterpart in Jinu, lead singer of the demon boy band (yeah, you heard that right), and a foil to Rumi. Jinu’s own regrets and guilt mirror Rumi’s struggles. The story revolves around how these two characters connect, reconcile their feelings, move forward, and a whole lot more.

I’m currently undergoing therapy to deal with some stuff in my personal life. Part of that involves third-culture kid syndrome, some generational trauma, and a dollop of internalized emotions and experiences. Put it all together, and you get me, the grown-ass adult sitting with a lump in his throat after watching K-Pop Demon Hunters.

This movie works really well on so many levels, especially with its messaging towards accepting differences and oneself, even with all our faults. Sometimes even the most well-intentioned wishes can cause hurt and pain, and sometimes this can come from those closest to us. In these moments, I’ve learned that you can find strength by trusting yourself and letting your emotions flow rather than repressing them. Being vulnerable about your emotions and misgivings don’t make you weak. It takes great strength to speak what is in your heart, and it is the best way forward to accepting oneself.

As Rumi and Jinu sing it, “We can’t fix it if we never face it.”

K-Pop Demon Hunters is a perfectly well-balanced movie for a diverse audience, and all the more reason that it has found great success. The ending certainly leaves you wanting more, and I’m glad to know that a sequel is in development. Rumi goes from hunting literal demons to battling the one within herself. The mystical barrier of the “honmoon” she has vowed to protect is a beautiful metaphor for her inner struggle and the repressed undercurrent of her emotions. Finally, her willingness to find strength by accepting herself and sharing that truth with her friends, who, in turn, embrace her, brings it all full circle with Rumi no longer hiding but shining, as she was born to be. In a way, I think that’s something we can all do for ourselves.

Hitting the Arcade

There is a lot you have to put up with when you become a father. Apart from the “old” commentary, your joints handing in their warranties (this could apply to the post-30s in general), and a lack of adequate sleep, there is also the reality of becoming slower.

That last point couldn’t have been more on the nose than when I hit the arcade with my 5-year-old daughter. This was her first visit, and it started off great. I was feeling all the emotions a father would have, reliving his childhood at the arcade. This time around, I was experiencing it all from my daughter’s perspective. The bright and colorful lights, the loud noises, the assortment of toys, what more could a kid ask for? Here was an occasion where I could have some quality father-daughter time while my wife could relish the peace and tranquility of shopping by herself (after nearly four years of “family” shopping).

The last time I set foot in an arcade was in the late 90s. There was a single, solitary store in my hometown. Admission was not cheap back then, but thanks to my strong performance at school, my father felt I deserved a treat. The hour or so I spent there is a gem of a memory. Coin tokens were a sweet memento of the 90s arcades. The idea of having to win coins to play more, and just the feel of it all, was pure awesomeness. Unlike today, when there are filters on the games that populate an arcade, the 90s had some questionable choices. My personal favorites were: Street Fighter and, of course, Mortal Kombat.

Neither of which I would allow my daughter play at her age.

So, entering the arcade now in the 2020s, I felt a little like a man out of time. Coins weren’t the favored currency. We now just had to load up a card with money. You win coupons and tickets that are automatically synced to your card, which you can then exchange for goodies. That last part was something I didn’t know, and I spent five minutes walking around the arcade machine and looking for an opening where the tickets fell through.

The selection of games at the arcade we hit up was much friendlier and more well-rounded for the 5-10-year-old age group. My daughter’s favorites were anything that involved claw machines. She was also damn good at it, far more than I ever was. I was very happy for her as we walked around with a generous collection of toys and plushies she had won from these machines. That happiness eventually turned to dread with the lesson I soon received.

It was a “I have tasted my own medicine, and it is bitter” scenario. I don’t consider myself too competitive when it comes to video games, but I apparently have a sadistic personality (according to my wife) and get the greatest pleasure in rubbing it in on my opponents through trash talk. Now, that side of me never popped up with my daughter. Even on my wife’s suggestion to try out a racing simulator, I was going to go easy on her. After all, seeing your child win and be happy is the best. Right? RIGHT?

Well, it is, until she whoops your ass, wipes the floor with you, and turns the sass on. The racing simulator was nothing too special, and the controls were simple enough. You had the steering wheel, the ignition, the nitrous button, the pedals, and whatnot. Once the race actually began, it was like I was facing a mirror reflection of myself. Never have I heard my daughter laugh as maniacally as she did, killing me on the track. Forget about going easy; I had to get serious. Annnddd, I still lost. Somehow, my daughter had, within minutes, perfected a technique that had taken me a lifetime: smash all the buttons at once.

The worst part of it all was getting it thrown back at me.

“Haha, Appa, you lost. You are too slow.”

Sigh. Anyways, lesson learned. Being humble can take you far in life. I graciously accepted my defeat. My wife, of course, couldn’t help but rub it in. It was well-deserved. All in all, though, I had a blast. It IS awesome to see your child be better than you in things, and it feels great…

Introducing the Writer’s Corner & My Writing Process

Welcome to the Writer’s Corner! Now that I’m a full-time writer, I feel it is appropriate to dedicate a portion of my blog to discussing my adventures as a creative. Today, I wanted to share my answer to a question I have asked several pros in the field: “What’s your approach to writing?”

After detailing their personal experiences, most pros settled on, “You’ve got to find what works best for you.” When I started out, I thought this meant reading references and manuals on stylistic writing and learning proper grammar and punctuation. I did everything except actually sit down and write. It has taken me quite some time, but I think I’ve finally figured out my response as a writer to the very same question.

Writing IS a subjective affair. The whole shebang of “you’ve got to find out what works best for you” feels like a cop-out, but it is true. How you take that advice and put it into action is what really matters. I’ve been writing since I was 12 years old. I still have copies of my first stories from middle school and high school. From teenage rom-coms to extremely misguided novels in the gangster genre, these stories were a window into my protected worldview at that point in my life. Things seemed comedically simpler and less chaotic. On the flip side, there was also the sheer embarrassment that accompanied the content’s juvenile quality, like when I had members of the mafia naming their cars with “cool” names like “Cherry.” Let’s leave it there for now. Best not to open Pandora’s box.

Despite the questionable quality of the writing, I got one thing right back then. I was fearless. I wrote whatever came to mind and however I liked it. There was a freedom to my voice, which, as I grew older, diminished. This is partly a natural consequence of life. As adults, we become more responsible and thoughtful (or at least hope to), a little slower, and a tiny bit more cautious about everything we do. Writing is anything but that. It is about being free and voicing whatever is in your mind. It is about bringing worlds in your imagination to reality without restraint.

At the end of the day, how one approaches all of this is a highly personal and emotional part of their creative process. Most of all, it is not up for comparison.

Sounds simple enough? Yeah, it took me nearly 15 years to figure this out. I realized that for much of my journey as a writer, I had been a comparative creative. What does that mean? Well, I always compared myself to others. The result: I lost track of what worked for me. I spent years reading the works of different authors, following their styles, referencing writing guides, and whatnot. Somewhere along the way, writing became a chore and not a passion. Where there was freedom, there was now a system. A system that convinced me that only by setting myself against a pedestal of sorts (usually someone else whose work was better than mine) that I could accomplish my goals as a writer. I was imprisoned within the walls of this system, and as a result, lost my own touch and flair.

I don’t deny the importance of learning the elements of style and grammar. It is also beneficial to reach out to pros in the field and learn from their experiences. But most of all, it is necessary to recognize that what works for others may not always work for you, and it is okay if that is the case. What truly matters is that you work with what works best for you and refine it by strengthening your skills and expanding your toolkit. The latter part involves the stylization, grammar, punctuation, etc.

In my case, the breakthrough was becoming a father. Things get quite busy as a parent, and time becomes a privilege. For four years, I had to hold back on my writing. This allowed me to really introspect and reevaluate my approach, and now, I have regained my creative voice. How does this translate on paper?

Well, I’m the brainstorming type. That means I end up creating an entire story in my mind in one go. Much of it is patchwork at this stage, but I focus it with a directive. I use a narrative compass that follows my protagonist and guides me along the way. The beginning and end of the story are the easiest portions for me. Everything else in the middle I build out later. I don’t think too much about world-building or whatnot. My focus is on having a clear narrative structure with a definitive beginning and an end. That’s pretty much it! I grind away at this process until I’m confident enough to put pen to paper and begin writing the actual story. Along the way, I do take any opportunity to note down sentences or phrases that I find inspiring or suitable for the story. In most cases, I spend maybe a month or two doing this before sitting down to write the story.

This is my approach. Of course, it has slight variations depending on the genre I’m working on, but it is an approach I’ve honed over several years. On a slightly unrelated note, I’ve realized my approach is very similar to storyboarding in the animation/comic-book industry. So, for aspiring writers out there, take some time out and think about your writing. Use this introspective period not to rebuke your writing but to reflect healthily on what works best for you. Much of it can be trial and error, which can be very annoying. Be patient! Writing has no right or wrong; it is an art of improvement. So, even if you make mistakes, you are still learning!

“The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.” — Julia Cameron.

Kengan Ashura – The Art of Fighting

When you are sick, and your immune system is busy waging war while you feel like crap, the best motivator can be watching someone else getting beaten up for a change.

That didn’t come out right. Let me try again.

First and foremost, I do not condone any form of violence, but whenever I’m sick, I find my favorite pastime to either involve watching or playing action-oriented anime OR button-smashing fighting games.

In the past, during an episode of viral fever, my wife (then girlfriend) stocked me up with electrolyte drinks, snacks, and soups, then left for work, expecting me to get some good rest. She returned to find me sitting on the couch, surrounded by the very same, playing God of War on my PS3. I actually finished the original trilogy that one week while I was sick.

  • What can I say? It was a sick game.

This was when I was in my 20s. Now, after breaching the 30s, the warranty on my body parts has reached its final days. Video games don’t come as easily now. The fingers cramp up, and the shoulders ache. So, I’ve chosen the easy way out: Netflix. If you haven’t caught up, this is why I couldn’t bring myself to publish a post last weekend.

Now, being sick is as much a physical battle as it is a mental one. For a guy with allergies and nasal inflammation, catching a cold is never fun. It helps to get motivated, and what better way than to immerse yourself in an imaginative world of martial arts fighters. So with watery eyes, I looked down my Netflix playlist and got down to rewatching a classic: Kengan Ashura.

The Kengan Ashura series premiered on Netflix in 2019 and concluded in the summer of 2024. I was a latecomer and only got around to watching it in 2023. The series remained incomplete, and unable to contain my curiosity, I ended up reading the entire manga while waiting for new episodes.

Long story short, as far as action-oriented anime within the combat sport/martial arts genre goes, Kengan Ashura ranks among my top favorites. What makes the Kengan series unique in its genre is the protagonist’s journey. The traditional Japanese fighting anime trope usually involves a main character with little to no skill. This individual has to work hard to get to the top. Add a pinch of “power of friendship” and a “genius rival” to push him forward, and you have a classic shonen fighting anime script in your hands.

For those older anime fans (like me) who have grown tired of this formula, Kengan is a breath of fresh air. The crux of the plot unfolds in a high-stakes underground martial arts competition to determine the chairman of the Kengan Association. Corporate CEOs sponsor fighters in brutal, often no-holds-barred matches, with the winner deciding the new chairman or taking control of the association.

  • It’s anime Gladiator y’all…minus the swords, the slavery, and a few other things.

Our protagonist, Tokita Ohma, is battered from the beginning, and not for lack of skills. Ohma is a prodigious martial arts talent, but his tourney is a brutal struggle with a healthy dollop of bodily injury, psychological damage, and lots of pain. At some point, you feel like you are watching an 80’s rear-wheel drive Pontiac driving up an icy hill without any snow tires. On several occasions, the audience is left to wonder when Ohma will gas out.

  • Get used to this…

Of course, there is a reason why Ohma is putting himself through this literal hell. I won’t spoil that particular plot thread, but what I did love is the throwback to martial arts characters from old-school Hong Kong shaolin cinema of the 80s and 90s. Ohma is a warrior, and he wants nothing more than to better himself on that path. How he gets to achieve this, and if he does, is the story, and one with a surprise ending. By the end of the series, you can clearly tell that Kengan Ashura has a lot more to give, with hints peppered throughout the series of a wider universe to explore.

Kengan Omega, the official sequel, while certainly great, personally does not touch the same peak as its predecessor.

Nevertheless, Kengan Ashura is perfect as a one-off. Aside from the writing, the art is highly applaudable. The artist Daromeon goes to great lengths to convey dynamism in the fighting sequences.

As a student of figure drawing and anatomy, I greatly appreciated the breakdowns and inspiration I found while going through the panels. It is rough work, but it flows perfectly. The anime uses 3D CGI, with mostly static 2D backgrounds, while the character models and action are in 3D. While a few may disagree, I felt this was perfect for showcasing the martial-arts choreography required by the manga.

Last but not least, Ashura is also one of the few manga in which side characters receive great characterization. A tournament-style progression to the story also makes it easy to keep the cast tight and involved at all turns. This provides ample screentime for everyone’s favorites, barring a few cuts here and there in some fights.

That settles it! Now, while I continue the good fight against my cold (almost back to 100%), Kengan Ashura awaits new readers. I highly suggest giving it a chance, and if you are not so much into reading, the anime is a respectable adaptation you can enjoy on Netflix. Until next week, toodles!

The Homes That Have Defined Me

Until recently, I have always struggled to answer the question, “Where is home?” The answer I found isn’t anything special. There is a good chance you can actually find it at your neighborhood’s home décor store, plastered across a wall hanging, “Home is where the family is. ” 

Now, to be a little more specific, that puts us in Calgary, Alberta. For someone who has spent much of his life moving from one place to another, my hope is that Calgary will become a permanent settlement, in terms of longitude and latitude.

This doesn’t take away the valuable lessons I have learned living a life in transit. It has taught me that nothing is permanent, that every beginning has an end, and most importantly, that change is natural. Knowing and literally living these statements finds me grateful for the opportunities I have been given, the wonderful people I have met along the way, and the experiences I have had thus far in my life.

The journey came with its share of good and bad, but I’m thinking I will lean more on the good side of things for today. 2026 is a year of commitment, and it sees me embark on a lifelong dream: becoming a full-time writer. The Pensive Reverie has been all about sharing this journey with my readers, so I felt it was right to share a little more about this up-and-coming author’s origins.

As in most stories, this calls for a flashback that demonstrates the why behind our hero’s journey and what has led him to where he is now. If you haven’t caught on, that mildly unimpressive hero with wildly elaborate dreams is yours truly. The flashback concerns the different homes that defined my personal growth and continue to inspire my writing.

Our journey begins in Madurai, India.

The city of temples is where I grew up. Today, it is a time capsule of sorts. A few years back, when I returned to India (after nearly six years away), I had to accept that the Madurai I knew was long gone. It is now a core memory of my childhood. Back then, I was in my element and at home. I got a whole lot of love from my grandparents, who lived practically next door to us. My grandfather introduced me to the concept of faith and religion, while my parents served as a reference point to my culture. I took in everything without question. The world was small, and I felt secure about who I was and wanted to be, until the land of the pharaohs stole me away.

My family moved to Cairo, Egypt, in the early 2000s. The bubble that represented my worldview till that point fell apart. Here was a beautiful city with such a rich history. There was so much to learn, so much to see, just so much of a lot. I discovered the World Wide Web, and I also got to knock heads with racism. Here, in the land of the pyramids, I learned a new language, was introduced to a very different culture and religion, and just about everything that wasn’t India. I also began to question who I could be and where I could go. I never really thought much about it, but looking back now, the seeds of change had begun to take root in my psyche and worldview. Eventually, my journey with the pharaohs pushed me further into the desert.

My family moved to Khartoum, Sudan, where I would see off my high school days. My tangle with racism still hung over me like a cloud. I was depressed and unsure of myself. Thankfully, the winds of the desert helped me dispose of these feelings. During my time in Sudan, I fully recognized the dilemma of my identity, lost and floundering between the cultures I grew up with and the one I was born into. I mused about the future and wondered how my family and loved ones would receive the differences in perspective I had begun to harbor about myself and the person I was becoming. To resolve this issue, I embarked on a journey across the oceans to Edmonton, Canada.

What followed was the rollercoaster ride of university life. There, in that battleground, I confronted my personal insecurities and settled an identity crisis spanning several years of my life. I discovered the expectations I had set on myself and those that had been set upon me, and in that process, I found myself and someone else who believed in me. Now, I’m married to that someone and have a family of my own.

Which brings us back to where I am now in Calgary. As for all those homes of my past, they exist as a well of inspiration for me to continue my journey of personal growth. The places I left behind over the years have changed, and I can never go back to how things used to be, making those memories all the more special.

Amidst all these years of transition, my love for writing has remained the one constant. It is now my safehouse and the place where I’m happiest when I’m by myself. I love being immersed in the worlds of my imagination, and now I’m finally taking the steps to bring them closer to reality so I can share them with everyone.

They say that sometimes the journey can be the destination, and it certainly has been for me. Where the road leads next, I will have to wait and see!

Remembering Our Faults

For starters, my absence the prior week was for naught. When your wife starts sounding like the second coming of Arnold Schwarzenneger and your own voice reverts to prepubescent days, you know the flu game is strong this season. Feeling under the weather is not enough to describe the hell that has been the past week, but here I am now, and all the merrier to finally be over with it.

That being said, today’s post relays what went missing earlier. Falling sick gives you a good reason to relax. After all, rest is the best medicine. While the flu had destroyed my voice, my mental faculties remained sharp, and I had a lot to introspect about. Earlier, during my weekly visit to the local public library, I learned that January 27th observed International Holocaust Remembrance Day. Across from the reception desk was a table with several books and graphic novels related to the Holocaust. Perusing the selection reminded me of the last time I had read a book on the same topic. That was all the way back in high school.

From Art Spiegelman’s Maus to Elie Wiesel’s Night, my younger self had retreated in horror learning about the Holocaust. Wiesel’s graphic descriptions of his own survival at Auschwitz and Buchenwald had given me nightmares. The depravity that was in full flow leapt off the pages recounting the experiences of Holocaust victims. Those experiences also spoke to the enduring strength of those who survived and remain to this day.

That day at the library, I felt compelled to be drawn back into said world, now seemingly lost to memory. I picked out two titles that I found intriguing:

A few days later, I fell sick with the flu and spent my time reading the two books. My younger self had struggled to come to terms with the reality of the Holocaust, but as an adult, I felt more pensive revisiting this chapter in human history.

Who Owns the Clouds? and The Librarian of Auschwitz related the experiences of two young female protagonists, the impact the war and the Holocaust had on their families, their childhood, and their future. (Of course, there is a lot more to it, but I don’t want to give it all away; I highly recommend both titles!) Both protagonists undergo profound personal transformations (not always positive) that help them survive this tumultuous period of human affairs. The Holocaust is a telling moment in history that demonstrated the human capacity to inflict suffering and destruction. The subsequent horror took different forms in every generation. Both these books provide plenty of that, but that isn’t all there is to their purpose. Despite being two very different experiences, the two stories reitereate that even in the darkest of moments, not all is lost. The protagonists are uplifted by the actions of those who were courageous enough to stand up for their beliefs, to fight the good fight, and instill hope for the future.

My reading wasn’t a continuous process. I had to take breaks, and not for lack of focus, but due to frequent visits from my daughter, who took it upon herself to take care of her supposedly “ailing” father. Observing my daughter’s actions, I couldn’t help but juxtapose the protagonists’ realities onto hers. How would I react if something similar happened to my daughter? How would I protect her from a world that is torn asunder? It was not a pleasant thought, and it probably aggregated from a source of concern that has been on my mind of late.

Currently, there just doesn’t seem to be a pause button for the chaos unfolding across the world. Differences speak louder, and unity seems trivial. Social media has become a global echo chamber for negativity. Fall into this rabbit hole, and you are not coming out of it in one piece. As a person of color, I have experienced my fair share of racism and segregation. Now, here was my daughter, growing up as a biracial kid in a world where diversity was an excuse for division. What could I do to keep my daughter safe? What could I do to ensure that she would neither be a victim nor an instigator of the same negativity that seems to be running rampant in a global period of uncertainty and rapidly changing political landscapes (much like the history related by the books I had just read)?

It was not easy to mull these things over while battling the flu. Writing about it, I guess, is my way of finding courage and staying hopeful. It also helped that my daughter had all the answers. Much like the protagonists in the two books, whose innocence empowers their actions and guides them through their trials to do what is right, I found strength in my daughter’s actions. In a misplaced belief that I had fallen ill because of her, my daughter forced me to accept an apology on her part, later going on to reaffirm the importance of saying “Sorry” when one is at fault.

There was my answer. Making mistakes is part of being human, but it is more important to remember and learn from our faults. History teaches us a lot, and while it may seem distant from our present, the lessons of our past can help us move forward. This resonates with the discord of today’s global affairs and how the world just seems to want to tear itself up. Differences aren’t what set us apart, they serve as a gateway to connection and strength. It is in our courage to bridge them that we define our humanity.

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. – Victor Frankl

The Art and Storytelling of Stan Sakai

When I was a kid, the weekend was something to look forward to, beyond just an excuse not to do homework. The two days brought with them the excitement of reading the weekly children’s magazine delivered to my grandfather’s home. The Siruvar Malar (literally, “Children’s Flower”) and Thanga Malar (“Golden Flower”) were filled with folktales, comics, arts-and-crafts activities, and ads for local art contests.

When I was in my tweens, I graduated from these magazines to reading full-blown comics that my father would purchase on his business trips. These were the still-ongoing (mostly online now) and highly popular Tinkle Comics. Tinkle’s pantheon of characters, including Suppandi, Shikari Shambu, Ramu and Shamu, Tantri the Mantri, were my childhood heroes.

These comics were rife with cultural humor and folk inspiration. I prayed to be a lot more adept than the reckless hunter Shikari Shambu and the hilarious ignoramus Suppandi. I found inspiration in the deviousness of Ramu and Shamu in annoying my own family, and delighted in the constant failures of the evil Tantri the Mantri.

More than just a passing form of entertainment, these comics were relatable to life and Indian culture, and also helped cultivate my understanding of the English language. The nostalgia that I attributed to these stories hit me like a truck when I came across Stan Sakai’s Usagi Yojimbo in my early twenties.

As a young adult and an exam-hardened undergraduate student at university, I found Sakai’s magnum opus stacked up in a corner at the public library. It wasn’t too long before I fell in love with what Sakai had to offer. A while back, I wrote about the man who drew from memory, Kim Jung Gi. If Gi was all about the awe and spectacle of art in full flow, Sakai, for me, was the finest mix of storytelling and art in the comic form. Usagi Yojimbo, or “rabbit bodyguard,” is set at the beginning of the Edo period of Japanese history and features anthropomorphic animals in place of humans.

Our protagonist is the rabbit ronin, Miyamoto Usagi, based on the famous Japanese legendary swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. Wandering the lands of Edo Japan, Usagi sells his services as a bodyguard while going on adventures that have him fighting off his enemies. As a Japanese-born American cartoonist, Sakai draws on both Japanese and Western pop-culture elements. Usagi meets all kinds of friends and enemies, from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to Godzilla. Here was someone I aspired to be in my own ambition to be a storyteller and comic book writer. Sakai’s artwork was detailed, complemented by amazing inking and lettering.

Despite being anthropomorphic, Sakai’s character lived their experiences, and you could relate to them as though they were fellow human beings. Usagi’s growth from a battle-hardened samurai to a philosophical warrior who gains a host of friends and family, whom he would go to any extremes to protect, is heartwarming. The art was further elevated by Sakai’s storytelling. Usagi’s adventures included many references to Japanese history and folklore, featuring architecture, clothes, weapons, mythical creatures, and ancient festivals. Sakai’s ability to skillfully weave facts and legends into the adventures of his samurai rabbit is a genuine masterclass in storytelling. I was (and still am) enamored by Sakai’s art and stories. Usagi’s swashbuckling adventures brought back childhood memories of Tinkle Comics and the Panchatantra (an ancient collection of animal fables). The vivid splashes of folklore, mythology, and traditional arts that span the pages of his magnum opus also made me fall irrevocably in love with Japanese culture and history. Book 41 of Usagi Yojimbo was released in 2025, and Sakai is still going strong.

Usagi is now a cultural phenomenon with an animated series that released in 2022 titled Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles. Although the comics cater to an older audience, the animated series is perfect for kids who wish to venture into Usagi’s world, albeit through the eyes of his descendant, Yuichi Usagi. At the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, I got the chance to attend my first online (and in general) art and animation expo, LightBox 2020. Attending the event reinforced my passion for creative storytelling and for pursuing a career in writing. It has been a rollercoaster ride since, and to be honest, I have not made much progress. That may not sound encouraging, but if there is one thing I’ve learned from Usagi, it’s that the journey can sometimes be the destination. All thanks to Stan Sakai!

In the years since 2020, what was once a dream has evolved into a coherent career I’ve now fully committed to in 2026. Where the road leads from here is another adventure that beckons.